


Haven by Chance

by eurydice72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breathplay, Dom/sub Play, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Past Child Abuse, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 84,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/pseuds/eurydice72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percival Chance looks like he might have it all, but his shyness and insecurity cripple him from any kind of real relationship. Until he meets a gorgeous blond at a club one night and decides to take a chance. When he finds out his hook-up is none other than Arthur Pendragon, one of the most powerful businessmen in London, he's convinced he's made a terrible mistake. It's up to Arthur to convince him otherwise...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“This is a bloody terrible idea.”

“It’ll be fun.”

“For you. For the one of us who can’t actually dance, it’ll be torture.”

Merlin sighed and turned back to the mirror to check his hair one last time. It was getting too long, with curls starting to flop down into his eyes, but though he itched to get it cut, the last time he’d got lucky on a night out, the bloke who’d shagged him on the train ride home had used his hair like reins. The tingling pain it had elicited had shot straight to his balls, and he’d come within a couple strokes of jerking off. “Seriously, Perc, how do you expect to ever meet anyone if you never go out?”

On the bed behind him, Percival Chance flopped backward to sprawl across the narrow mattress. He consumed the bed, his feet firmly on the floor where his legs dangled over the edge, his arms akimbo as he stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how you expect me to pull anyone when I look like an idiot as soon as the music starts.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Says the guy who has never gone home alone after one of these nightmares.”

“Says the guy who promises not to leave you high and dry if there’s rubbish prospects, all right?” Satisfied that it was as good as it was going to get, he stepped away from the mirror and kicked Percival lightly in the shin. “Come on, you’re looking at this all wrong anyway. Odds are, you won’t even have to dance. Just find a spot on the wall where there’s some decent light, take your shirt off, and wait.” He grinned. “You’ll have ‘em lined up, on their knees in no time.”

Percival looked unconvinced, but he rose from the bed anyway. He glanced at their reflections and shook his head. “I’m an absolute nutter for going along with this.”

“Nah.” He jabbed him playfully in the stomach and then scuttled out of the way before Percival could return the gesture and his grand plan to get the both of them laid stalled out in the face of a wrestling match he’d inevitably lose. “You’re just horny.”

* * *

“If you get pissed out of your gourd again, I’m not driving you home.”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I won’t. I mean it this time.”

Gwaine winked at Arthur at the same time he reached over to pat his knee. “You mean it every time, but that’s all right. I respect you anyway.”

With an annoyed scowl, Arthur shoved the hand away. “How many times have I asked you not to do that when I’m driving?”

“About as many as you’ve claimed to abandon me in my hour of need. And yet, here we are.”

“Here we are, indeed,” Arthur muttered. Gwaine had kept him waiting an extra half hour as he fussed with his hair and now they were hitting the worst of London’s evening traffic. He could’ve had them there and been parked already if his best mate wasn’t such a queen sometimes. It was probably a bit much not to take the tube or a taxi, but Arthur liked the freedom that came with knowing he could leave at any time and be on his way home without having to rely on somebody, or something, else.

“Know what you need?”

He sighed. “This oughta be good.”

“To get fucked tonight.”

“I thought that was the plan all along.” Why else would he ever agree to go dancing with Gwaine? He hated to dance, but he loved the attention and all the guys who flocked to them once Gwaine let loose.

“No, I mean _you_ get fucked. Bent over the bathroom sink, balls to the wall, fucked.”

His ass clenched involuntarily. “You’re off your head. I don’t bottom.”

“Only because you’ve never met the right guy. You keep hooking up with these twinks and what else can you expect?”

“Some of them are hung quite nicely, thank you very much.”

“And yet, they never seem to get anywhere near the glorious Pendragon ass, now do they?” He laughed when Arthur blushed. “Oh, come on. If you didn’t want me or any other healthy gay man in London staring at it, you wouldn’t spend so much time on those squats.”

“I like to stay in shape.”

“You like making us drool.”

Rolling his eyes, Arthur flipped him off, ignoring the amused laughter that filled the Mercedes. Only Gwaine got away with talking such smack and only because he’d pulled Arthur’s so-called glorious ass out of the fire more than once. For as much as Gwaine might look like some fly-by-night party boy, he was as loyal as they came. Not even Arthur was daft enough to fuck up their friendship.

“We’re out to have some fun tonight,” he asserted. “That’s all.”

“And how do you know getting fucked isn’t fun since you’ve never tried it?”

He clamped his mouth shut at that. There was a line to be drawn in how much he’d open up to Gwaine about, and that was it. 

“Why don’t we see how it goes?” he said instead. “As far as you know, Romp will be dead tonight.”

Gwaine shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve got a funny feeling tonight’s going to be different.”

“The last time you had a funny feeling, I ended up with a black eye and you got that restraining order put on you.”

“Yeah, but getting them was an absolute blast, wasn’t it?”

Inwardly, Arthur sighed. The problem with Gwaine’s funny feelings was that they inevitably turned out to be right. He could only hope that tonight’s so-called differences didn’t cost him more than the price of petrol and a few pints.

* * *

Romp was as packed as Merlin had predicted and as crowded as Percival feared. Men of every shape and size lined the street to get in, though none were as tall as him. He rounded his shoulders, trying to shrink in on himself, and felt the heat crawl up the back of his neck as more than one set of eyes followed him when he passed.

If he’d been alone, he would have gone home. Hell, he wouldn’t have been here in the first place. But complaining would only strengthen Merlin’s resolve, and Percival didn’t want to ruin his best friend’s night out. As much bravado as Merlin might display, he knew the man needed this. His breakup with Lance hadn’t been as pain-free as he professed. It might have been amicable, but Merlin had talked like Lance was the one. That had to hurt, no matter how soft the fall.

“Looks like a good crowd tonight,” Merlin enthused. They took their place at the end of the line, though it shifted forward, closer to the door, the moment they stopped. “I told you this was a good idea.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. A brisk wind cut through the narrow street, but enough bodies packed the walk to make the chill inconsequential. Still, Percival folded his arms over his chest to conserve what little heat he had. At Merlin’s insistence, he’d worn a black vest that showed off his biceps, and though he was hardly the only one dressed like that, he still felt like he stuck out.

A few more feet forward, and the queue ground to a halt, leaving him with nothing to do but look around. He carefully avoided making direct eye contact with those with the brass balls to check him out. If Merlin noticed, he didn’t say anything, for which Percival was grateful. It was one thing to go out in public in search of a quick fuck. It was something else entirely to go through with it. Merlin was the gregarious one, not him. This many people always left him tongue-tied, as if he wasn’t already self-conscious enough. He rarely got dates as a result. Bathroom stall wanks, sure, those were no problem. But an honest to goodness date? That required more than a few muscles and a big cock, and frankly, he just didn’t know what to say to most guys.

Two guys strolled down the length of the walk to join the queue behind them. The long-haired dark one grinned at Merlin, who in turn smiled back, but it was the blond standing next to him that Percival fixated on.

He was shorter than the rest of them, but far more powerfully built than Merlin or his friend. Broad shoulders strained against the navy T-shirt he wore, and when he passed by, Percival got a quick glimpse at an absolutely scrumptious ass, lovingly cupped in a pair of faded jeans. A strong jaw brought attention to his blowjob mouth, but it was the shrewd blue eyes zeroing in on him that sent a jolt through Percival’s body. Like they saw right through him and liked every inch of what he saw.

Slowly, those blue eyes swept downward, lingering for a moment on Percival’s partially covered chest, then settling for several seconds on his crotch. Under the curious appraisal, his cock thickened, trapped awkwardly against his thigh because he hadn’t taken a moment to situate himself properly before arriving. Fuck, he hadn’t really considered he’d get lucky after all. This was Merlin’s night. But now, with that hot, sexy mouth quirking into a small smile, he wondered if he might be able to get some after all.

The blond caught his eye again, then jerked his head toward the others behind Percival. When Percival frowned, the smile blossomed into a full-blown grin. 

“Queue’s moving,” the blond said.

Percival whipped around, flushing in embarrassment that he’d been too wrapped up in the stranger to notice. He did a quick doublestep to catch up, but when Merlin turned back to start chatting up their neighbors, Percival remained facing forward. A clod, that’s what he was, always putting his foot in it or looking like an idiot. People assumed he wasn’t smart because of his size, and he wasn’t nearly quick enough with the words to counter that opinion, even though it wasn’t true. The blond was just another casualty of his social missteps and ill timing.

“And this is Percival.” Merlin’s hand clapped down on his shoulder, forcing him to turn back, albeit not quite all the way. “Perc, this is Gwaine…” He gestured toward the dark-haired man. “And—”

“Arthur.” The blond held his hand out in greeting, waiting for Percival to accept it.

Though his chest felt like an elephant had just sat on it, Percival unfolded his arms to extend a hand as well. Sparks leapt across his skin at the first contact of the strong, blunt fingers around his own, especially when Arthur seemed to give his hand an extra squeeze before letting go.

“See?” Gwaine jostled Arthur with a friendly elbow. “Looks like it was a good thing we were running late after all.”

“I hate it when I run late,” Percival blurted.

His horror at offering such an inane opinion that had absolutely nothing to do with anything was mitigated by Arthur’s smile and guffaw. “Thank you,” he said to Percival. “No matter how much I try and tell him otherwise, Gwaine here thinks the world runs on his own personal clock.”

Gwaine winked at Merlin. “The parts that matter do.”

“Yeah, well, being on time shows respect,” Arthur countered.

“How do you figure that?” Merlin said with a frown.

“It says I know your time is valuable and I appreciate that you’ll treat mine in the same manner.” He looked very pleased with his assessment, but when neither Merlin nor Gwaine seemed impressed with his declaration, he edged closer to Percival. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

Percival nodded. Speech failed him. Though the smell of London traffic lay heavy in the air, the lesser distance between him and Arthur had brought the other man’s cologne to the foreground. The musky scent supplanted everything else, and he had the sudden urge to bury his face in the man’s balls to see if he smelled that good all over.

The line started moving again, and somehow, Merlin and Arthur traded places. The bright sounds of his friend’s laughter drifted from behind him, but now, Percival couldn’t get past the way Arthur’s forearm kept brushing against his. It wasn’t deliberate. That was obvious. But the crush of people on the narrow strip of concrete forced bodies into contact, even if they didn’t want to be.

Except Percival wanted it. Each graze of hot skin over his provoked another image, of Arthur grappling at his body, of Arthur on his knees, of Arthur, of Arthur, of Arthur.

He was fully erect by the time they reached the front door.

He didn’t recognize the bouncer, but the squat bald man didn’t even look in Percival’s direction. He nodded once at Arthur and waved them through, holding up his hand to stop those behind Gwaine and Merlin. Arthur caught the door and held it open for them, giving Percival a crooked grin as he passed.

Immediately, the dance music wrapped around him in its suffocating embrace. The temperature jumped by at least twenty degrees from outside to in, while the strobing disco lights gave Percival a headache before they reached the first table ringing the dance floor. He paused, trying to swallow the panic swelling in his throat. The prospect of finding a spot on the wall to hold up was sounding better and better.

He flinched when a hand touched the small of his back and nearly caught Arthur with his elbow when the man appeared at his side.

“Bar or table?” Arthur had to practically shout to be heard over the din.

“Table,” he replied without hesitation. The bar would see too much foot traffic.

With a brief nod, Arthur scanned the club, stopping on an empty table near the toilets. “Why don’t you go and grab that one? I’ll get us some drinks.”

“Whiskey.”

“What?”

Percival leaned down a little to be better heard, but it meant getting his mouth near Arthur’s ear and seeing the beginning of stubble along his jaw. His tongue prickled at the thought of how rough it would be if he licked the spot.

“Whiskey,” he repeated. “That’s what I drink.”

When Arthur turned a brilliant smile in his direction, their lips almost touched before Percival could pull back in time. “A man after my own heart.” He patted Percival on the shoulder. “Be right back.”

Gwaine went with him, leaving Merlin to follow Percival through the throng to the table. Percival took the chair against the wall. It both gave him room to stretch out his legs and afforded the best view of the room so he could keep an eye out for anybody who might approach. Old habits died hard.

“Arthur’s hot.” Merlin flopped down in the chair opposite, a devilish grin playing on his mouth. “You are so getting laid tonight.”

“I am not.”

But his gaze strayed to the bar anyway, to the way Arthur and Gwaine leaned across it to speak to the bartender. Arthur’s broad shoulders tapered down to those damn hips, and the way he posed put his ass on perfect display.

Merlin laughed. “Yeah, right. Wanna make a bet on it?”

Tearing his eyes away shouldn’t have been so hard. “No.”

“Because you’ll lose.”

“Because I’m not turning tonight into a wager.”

“It’s meant to be fun.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“So relax. Hang loose. Arthur’s into you, I can tell.”

When Percival glanced toward the bar again, he found Arthur watching him in turn. There might be a good thirty feet between them, but those blue eyes bored into Percival just like they had outside, a darkening promise of pleasures yet to come.

“That Gwaine seems to like you,” he said, trying to change the subject.

A definite glitter appeared in Merlin’s eyes. “Yeah. He looks like fun.”

After Lance’s seriousness, fun was exactly what Merlin needed. Someone to distract him from all of Lance’s rules and so-called honorable notions. 

The lone problem to anything beyond this one night, however, was the possibility of traveling in the same circles as Gwaine. He was friends with Arthur. From the way Percival was reacting to him, that could get awkward very quickly.

Arthur and Gwaine appeared before they had the chance for much more idle chatter. Merlin took his beer, downed half of it in a single gulp, then rose and grabbed Gwaine’s empty hand.

“Let’s dance.”

Gwaine shrugged good-naturedly and set his beer next to Merlin’s. In less than the space of time it took to call Merlin even a single name, Percival was all alone with Arthur.

Setting down the tumbler he carried, Arthur grabbed the chair next to him and turned it around to straddle. “You look like you want this more than the dance floor,” he said, pushing Percival’s drink closer.

“Yeah.”

The alcohol burned going down, but the fire was welcome, the heat working to melt away some of the knots in his shoulders. It did nothing for the rest of him, but at least he had the table to hide his erection behind.

That was when he noticed Arthur sipped at a bottle of still water.

“You’re not drinking?” he asked.

Arthur shook his head. “Gotta be the responsible one. I’m Gwaine’s ride home.” He sighed melodramatically. “Provided he’s still vertical when he’s done here.”

“Maybe Merlin will keep him too busy to keep hitting the bar.”

“I should only be so lucky.”

And that was it. Percival was officially tapped out on what to talk about next. The music was too loud for a real conversation, and besides which, nobody came to Romp for talking.

Then why was Arthur still sitting here instead of dancing?

“If you want to go, you know…” Percival gestured feebly toward the mass of men glistening under the flickering lights. Just because Arthur was Gwaine’s designated driver, didn’t mean he had to be relegated to the sidelines. More than one guy had looked in his direction since he sat down. He could have his pick of any of them.

“Did _you_ want to?” Arthur said.

“Oh, hell no. I suck.”

“So do most of the guys who are already out there.”

He laughed at the exaggeration and shook his head. “You only say that because you’ve never seen me.”

“Well, maybe I’ll get that chance later on, then.” Picking up his water, Arthur sipped at it slowly without moving an inch off his seat.

“Aren’t you going?” Percival asked.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

That possibility hadn’t even occurred to him. “Oh, god no, I just thought—”

“Stop thinking.” Another sip. For a split second, Percival wondered if he kept drinking his water to force Percival to look at his mouth. It was working, if he did. “I’m right where I want to be. Though…” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “If they decide to switch tempo, I’m dragging you out for a slow one. You don’t have to know any fancy moves for that. Just make sure we’re touching in all right places.”

Percival sucked in a hard breath. There was no mistaking _that_ invitation. Body to body, groin to groin, hands tucked into back pockets or maybe even inside the jeans…

He nodded in agreement. A slow dance. He could do that. With Arthur, most definitely.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur still thought Gwaine was full of shit about getting fucked tonight, but one look at the tall and tasty Percival, and Arthur knew he wouldn’t be looking at any of his usual twinks. Besides, the guy looked like he wanted to be anywhere but at Romp, and Arthur understood that sentiment too well not to lend a hand and keep him company.

He certainly wasn’t Romp’s usual clientele. Oh, sure, the costume was right, the sleeveless vest showing off muscles all the way to the States and back, and though Percival wore it with an indifference that said he was accustomed to the shirt design, the way he sat slouched in his chair, eyes everywhere all at once, made other claims. A shyness lurked in the duck of his lashes when he spoke, and in how his hazel eyes would widen when Arthur said something that took him off-guard. Arthur wanted to assure him he had nothing to worry about, that most of the guys either in or out of Romp couldn’t hold a candle to him, but instincts warned him to play it careful with this one.

Asking him to consider a slow dance later on was the closest he could come just yet to saying, “You’re fucking hot and I would love to get my hands on you.”

Merlin and Gwaine came back after their second dance, laughing and breathless as they reached for their beers. “You two aren’t going to hold the wall up all night, are you?” Merlin teased.

“I think your friend has the wall beat,” Gwaine commented with a wink at Percival.

Percival colored. Arthur wanted to kick Gwaine in the nuts for pushing too hard.

“There’s something to be said for quiet, dark corners,” he said, leaping to the reply to let Percival off the hook.

Merlin and Gwaine exchanged a knowing look. “I’d say don’t do anything I wouldn’t do—”

“Gwaine, there _is_ nothing you wouldn’t do.”

Merlin threw an arm around Gwaine’s shoulders, pressing closer into his side. They might have only known each other for minutes, but the two already acted like lovers, especially with the hard-ons they shamelessly sported. “That’s music to my ears,” he said. “But seriously, when are you two coming out? The DJ’s great tonight.”

“The first slow dance.” At Percival’s answer, Arthur’s brows shot up, but the other man kept his gaze steady on their standing friends. “We already figured it out.”

A pleased smile spread across Merlin’s face, different than his delight in being with Gwaine. “Good. That’s good.”

“Don’t step on his feet, Arthur,” Gwaine added with another wink.

“It’s not his feet I’m interested in.”

The flirtatious comment came out before he could stop it. He was too used to this kind of banter with Gwaine, but the added stain to Percival’s cheeks proved maybe he’d gone too far with it. By the raucous sound of Merlin and Gwaine’s laughter, it was right on the money, but they weren’t the ones at the table when the next song started up.

“Look—”

“They’re getting along well, don’t you think?”

Percival’s question drove Arthur’s attention back to the dance floor, where Merlin and Gwaine gyrated against each other to the driving beat of the music. “Gwaine gets along with everyone.”

“Lucky bloke,” he heard Percival mutter.

He wasn’t sure if Percival meant Merlin or Gwaine, but the longing on the man’s face was undeniable. Had he had a break-up recently? Was that why they were at Romp? 

Percival didn’t offer anything more. Instead, his eyes were fixed on their friends, his nostrils occasionally flaring as he seemed to catch his breath. Arthur picked up his water, intent on helping the guy relax, but when he glanced back at the dance floor, he was riveted by the same thing entrancing Percival.

The beat hadn’t slowed, but Merlin and Gwaine had. They now stood back to front, Gwaine behind with one hand on Merlin’s hip and the other smoothing across his stomach. Merlin’s ass was firmly nestled against Gwaine’s crotch, and the slow revolutions of their hips mimicked more intimate gestures. Merlin’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back to rest on Gwaine’s shoulder, while Gwaine had his mouth at Merlin’s ear, clearly whispering something that drove the other man wild. Occasionally, his tongue snaked out to trace the outer curve, and a violent shudder would wrack through Merlin’s frame, his hand shooting out and back to claw into Gwaine’s hip and keep their bodies close.

Arthur had been semi-hard ever since spying Percival in the queue outside, but now his cock was stone solid, throbbing where it was trapped against his thigh. It wasn’t just seeing how hot Gwaine and Merlin were together—though Merlin was definitely someone he would’ve looked at twice if Gwaine hadn’t spotted him first. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Percival fidgeting, his tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip, his hand straying out of sight to his lap, and all without looking away from their friends. Knowing he was probably hard, too, maybe even touching himself surreptitiously in the dark, had Arthur more on edge than anything in a long time.

“They look good together,” he said, keeping his tone intimate.

“Yeah.” 

The admission was more of a breath than a word. The sensation of what it would feel like across the back of his neck sent gooseflesh racing down his bare arms.

“I’ll bet you could dance like that, no problem.”

Percival snorted. “I could only wish.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

“You haven’t seen me dance.”

“I don’t need to.” Arthur turned away from the spectacle on the floor and leaned closer to Percival, slipping his hand beneath the table to settle on the man’s knee. “Let me prove you wrong.”

The look in his eyes was pure deer in headlights, but he didn’t pull away or push Arthur’s hand off. “The music’s too fast.”

“Who needs music?”

“But…” He swallowed once. Arthur had the overwhelming urge to bite at the man’s throat and see if he tasted as good as he looked. “What about the slow dance?”

“We’ll do it here.”

Quick as a flash, he was off the chair, grabbing Percival’s wrist to haul him to his feet. The man resisted for a split second before complying, and then he stood in front of Arthur, Arthur’s gaze level with that broad chest. The height differential was new. Arthur usually picked guys who were smaller than him. He wasn’t even terribly sure he knew how to partner with someone as big as Percival. 

But now that he had the man up, and he could smell the musky scent of his cologne, the last thing he wanted was to not try. Especially when he stepped closer and felt the distinct line of Percival’s erection against his stomach.

“Here.” He pulled the arm he still held around his body until Percival’s hand rested on Arthur’s ass. The moment he let go, Percival squeezed, and a sharp stab of desire went straight to Arthur’s cock. Fuck. That shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. He had zero intention of bending over for anyone, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so turned on. “Now all we have to do is move.”

After a moment, Percival nodded. The first sway of his body was jerky and hesitant, but it succeeded in rubbing his cock against Arthur, which, truth be told, was all Arthur really wanted anyway. He slid his hands around Percival’s hips to mirror their pose, though instead of cupping the man’s firm ass, he went ahead and shoved his fingers into the tight pockets of his jeans.

Percival jerked. A good sign, especially since he didn’t tell Arthur to get off. The way he stared at Arthur’s mouth spoke volumes as well. Arthur couldn’t resist stretching upward and running his tongue along the stubbled line of Percival’s jaw.

A sharp hiss escaped between Percival’s teeth. Though he didn’t abandon his grip on Arthur’s butt, he lifted his free hand to Arthur’s nape, forcing him to stay still as he returned the favor. He took it further, continuing onto Arthur’s neck to nip at the sinew where it curved into his shoulder, not stopping even when Arthur squirmed against him. If anything, the circle of his arms strengthened, demanding Arthur not move without Percival ever uttering a single word.

He should’ve shoved off at that point. At least, that’s what he would’ve expected to do. He liked being in charge, and he especially liked feeling the body against him submitting to his will. He’d even tied up a partner or two, teasing for hours before they begged to get off. But the gentle force of Percival’s embrace was something new. Combined with the hot sweep of his mouth, the unrelenting appreciation of his hands, it turned Arthur’s muscles to jelly, while his cock felt like it was going to shatter from how hard it was. He clung to Percival like he was drowning, and maybe he was, because in that moment, he wasn’t sure who had started this dance, who was going to finish it, or even if he ever wanted it to end.

He turned his head toward Percival’s ear. “Whoever told you that you can’t dance is an idiot.”

His low chuckle rumbled through both of them. “That would be me.”

“Feel like taking this someplace more private?”

“Sure.”

When Percival didn’t immediately move, Arthur did the unthinkable and peeled away. His palms tingled from the rough scrape of the denim when he pulled his hands free, and his fingers felt fat and clumsy without Percival’s ass to hold onto. On a whim, he dragged a hand over the thick bulge of Percival’s cock and then grinned up at him when he gasped at the contact.

“Come on.” 

Grabbing Percival’s wrist, he angled them the few feet to the toilets, checking one last time that Merlin and Gwaine were otherwise occupied. The door opened as they reached it, and a pair of giggling lads stumbled out, making kissy faces at Arthur and Percival when they passed by.

“If you two want some company…”

He almost considered it. They hadn’t negotiated roles yet, and the idea of fucking side by side with Percival was tempting. He’d love to watch that monster cock tear into a willing hole, especially if it was as cute as the one on offer.

But a wave of protectiveness washed over him, and he shook his head at the boys. “Maybe next time.”

They shrugged good-naturedly, leaving Arthur to pull Percival through the door. “Thank god,” Percival said, kicking it shut behind them. He stopped in his tracks and yanked, forcing Arthur to come to him where he leaned against the door. “I don’t want to share you.”


	3. Chapter 3

He’d done it to keep from spooking Percival, but the possessive bend of his neck as he leaned down to kiss Arthur worked for him, too. He settled between Percival’s legs, surprised at how easy it was to fit there, and opened to the caress at the first touch of the other man’s lips. Hunger didn’t begin to describe how he felt. He wanted to claw Percival’s clothes off and feel that powerful body skin to skin, but in the attack of that first kiss, such a move would have to wait.

Because everything stopped. He lost the pounding beat of the music on the other side of the door for the thudding of his heart as it slammed against his ribs. He lost the cooler temperature of the restroom for the swelter and sweat of Percival’s arms, folding around his back. He lost the smell of beer and chips and too many colognes for the muskier scent of Percival’s skin, more natural—honest—than anything someone could slather on. And he gained the taste of the man, the slightly sweet tangle of his tongue around Arthur’s, the faint bitterness of the whiskey where Percival delved for more.

Percival swept through Arthur’s mouth, then sucked Arthur’s tongue past his lips, encouraging him to take from the kiss what Percival already had. Arthur’s lips were numb when he finally gasped for breath, and sweat trickled from his brow into the corner of his eye, but his pause lasted for only a second, just the time it took to gulp more air into his lungs and dive in for more. When he nipped at Percival’s full lower lip, the groan he got went straight to his cock, and he ground against Percival’s thigh, eager for the added friction.

“What do you want?” Percival panted between kisses.

Arthur grinned. “Thought that was obvious.”

“No, I mean…” He straightened, moving beyond Arthur’s reach, or at least, beyond his easy reach because he could’ve grabbed the man’s head and forced him back down or climbed up the length of his body to get back to that swollen mouth. He almost did when Percival licked at his bottom lip. “I want to fuck you.”

In spite of his determination not to go there, his ass clenched at the bold declaration. The way he kept kneading Arthur’s butt definitely didn’t help his resolve, either. He grinned and molded his hand over Percival’s bulge, squeezing as hard as he could through the denim. “I’ve never had a cock this big in me before.” He hoped that would suffice without having to go into specifics. “What if I just suck you?”

His gaze dropped to Arthur’s mouth. “Oh, yeah. That’d be good, too.” When Arthur started to drop to his knees, Percival tightened his hold for a second to stop him. “You still haven’t said what you want.”

Arthur blinked. Wasn’t it obvious? Nothing seemed more important in that moment than getting his mouth on Percival’s cock. It took him several seconds to realize that wasn’t what Percival had meant, though. He asked about Arthur’s satisfaction, about Arthur’s needs, like anything was possible.

Maybe anything was.

“Two things.” Percival nodded like it was perfectly natural to be so greedy. “For you to return the favor.” Because as much fun as it would be to fuck him, it would be more fun to do it somewhere Arthur could be the one doing all the work, with Percival laid out in front of him to savor. “And your phone number so I can ring you sometime after tonight.”

Percival’s eyes widened in surprise. Good. Arthur liked the idea of keeping him on his toes. “Do I get yours, too?”

“If you want.”

“I would.” He jerked a thumb toward the wall behind them. “This isn’t really me.”

“You don’t have to explain anything.” He popped the button on Percival’s jeans, going for the zipper when Percival didn’t stop him this time. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want it.”

A mute nod. He was coming to crave those shy gestures.

Now that they knew where they stood, he was ready to move on. Percival dropped his hands to his side and let Arthur push his jeans and boxer briefs down to the top of his thighs. His legs were too far apart for the garments to go any farther, but Arthur had exposed everything he needed to.

The cock he pulled free was the biggest he’d ever held, a heavy weight in the palm of his hand as he curled his fingers around it. They made it, but only just, and he ran his thumb down the thick vein pulsing along the shaft. The flared head glistened with pre-come dripping freely from the slit. The fact that Percival was circumcised was yet another pleasant surprise. 

Dropping to his knees, Arthur cradled the length, holding it up and out of the way as he bent to nuzzle Percival’s balls. His mouth watered at the smell, all the sweaty goodness that he loved about cock and men’s bodies confined to a few inches of bare skin. Percival groaned. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw him ball his hand into a fist, bracing against some unknown desire, maybe to stop from grabbing onto Arthur’s head.

He actually hoped Percival lost that battle. Suddenly, the thing he wanted most right then was for Percival to fuck his face.

His tongue darted out, licking around the taut sac. He moved around to reach the other side and let Percival’s cock drag across his cheek. Sticky fluid caught on his jaw, just below his ear. He nearly jumped when Percival skimmed a finger through it and painted it across the corner of Arthur’s mouth.

Even that hint made his taste buds erupt. Tilting Percival’s cock downward, Arthur abandoned the balls to lick around the tip, avoiding the slit in favor of wetting the velvety skin. His spit joined with pre-come, taunting him with what it was going to be like straight from the source, but for now, it was enough to learn the shape of the head, how it flared across the top but was almost smooth straight into the shaft beneath.

Someone pounded on the door, but before Arthur could respond, Percival pounded back and shouted, “Occupied!”

Arthur smiled up at him without breaking the rhythm of his slow licks. Beneath the quiet exterior rested a fighter. Was he careful because of his size? That seemed plausible. The trick would be proving Arthur could take anything he could dish out.

Opening his mouth wider, he sucked the head between his lips. Just that couple of inches filled him up. Maybe he couldn’t quite take _anything_. Because if he couldn’t get the man’s cock in his mouth, how in hell would he ever get it in his ass?

He nearly stopped right then. He was considering it. He was _actually_ thinking about giving Percival what he wanted. Was he insane? Nobody went from virgin to cockwhore on a single date, if this even counted as a date. He couldn’t deny the desire was there, though, especially as he slid down the shaft a few more inches. This was a cock to be appreciated in all its glory, and if he was going to lose his anal cherry at all, it might as well be to someone as spectacular as Percival.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the thick length weighing against his tongue. First, they’d get through tonight. Exchanging numbers didn’t mean they’d actually meet up again. Anything could happen. Percival could change his mind. Right now, Arthur was going to look forward to swallowing the man’s come, then seeing if still waters could take it deep. Thinking about fucking could wait for later.

With one hand around the base to keep the cock steady, Arthur used the other to cup Percival’s balls. He rolled them between his fingers, squeezing more than once, and moaned in satisfaction when Percival thrust in response. A slight tug at the sac elicited another thrust, and soon, Percival was meeting each of his slides down the shaft with a drive forward of his own. Arthur could only get half of its length in his mouth before it hit the back of his throat, though. And the more strokes they stopped like that, the more frustrated he got.

He pulled off with a plop. “Anybody ever swallow you?” he panted.

Percival’s breath audibly caught. He shook his head.

Arthur grinned. “Well, that’s a challenge if I ever heard one.” He licked his lips, slicking them as much as possible. “I’ll need some help, though. If you want me to try.”

The air he’d been holding came out in a rush. “What do you want me to do?”

Reaching for a wrist, Arthur guided Percival’s hand to the back of his head. Those fantasies of having his face fucked just got a whole lot more real. “Don’t let me stop.”

Though Percival kept his hand lightly on Arthur’s nape, he frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“You think I don’t know how big I am?”

“I think you need to trust that I know my limits.” Big talk, considering he’d never deep-throated a cock as big as this one. But Arthur was sure he could do it. More importantly, he wanted it. “Come on, I’m asking for it. There’s no way to lose here.”

Percival still seemed unsure, but his fingers tensed infinitesimally against Arthur’s scalp, nudging him forward. Arthur took a deep breath. If he got what he hoped for, air would be a precious commodity in just a couple minutes.

He stretched wide to slide back onto Percival’s cock. Though the seal of his lips wasn’t as tight as before, he made up for it with his tongue, swirling it along the hot skin everywhere he could reach. Just like before, the tip hit the back of his throat, but rather than keep on going, Percival tugged Arthur back up. His left hand joined his right on the back of Arthur’s head, and together, they guided him down again, setting a slow, even tempo as Arthur’s jaw gradually relaxed.

Arthur braced his palms against Percival’s thighs. He sincerely hoped Percival understood what that signal meant. Control was his, not Arthur’s. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the sensations of the heavy prick sliding over his lips and past his tongue, getting wetter with every stroke.

“Jesus,” Percival murmured. “You’re so fucking hot like this.”

Arthur hummed in approval. His fingers curled to dig into the hard muscle. His toes had long ago curled inside his boots.

“You think you can take all of it?” Percival never raised his voice above a bare whisper. Somehow, that was even sexier. “I didn’t peg you for a cockslut, but I guess I was wrong, huh?”

A moan escaped Arthur. So close to how he’d considered his urges earlier, when he’d wondered what it might be like to have Percival split him open. He wasn’t, or at least, he never had been before, but Percival was changing all the rules tonight whether he realized it or not.

“Then, if that’s what you want…”

The hands on his head tightened. It wasn’t painful, but it was very clear who was in charge. He couldn’t break Percival’s grip if he tried. On the next slide down, Percival didn’t stop when he touched the back of Arthur’s throat. He nudged forward. Not far, just another inch or two, but it lodged the cockhead in the tight channel, exactly like Arthur wanted.

Percival shuddered. “Oh, fuck…”

Neither one of them moved. Arthur tightened his lips around the shaft and hummed his appreciation. It was even better than he’d hoped. Each second Percival stayed there was another that ratcheted the tension inside Arthur’s skin. When Percival finally pulled back, letting him gasp for breath, Arthur was almost disappointed.

“Again,” he panted. “That wasn’t all of it.”

“I don’t—”

“I said, I want all of it.” He pushed Percival’s hips hard against the door to punctuate his point, lifting his blazing eyes to the other man’s. “I’ll take it if you don’t give it.”

He wasn’t sure how he’d follow through on that threat, but he sure as hell would try. Percival must’ve seen his determination in his eyes, too—or was it lust? need?—because his hold firmed again, ready to pull Arthur back onto his cock.

Arthur was prepared this time, oh so ready he felt like he was going to come in his pants without ever touching himself. As the tip eased over his tongue, he dropped his jaw and breathed in heavily through his nose. The moment Percival reached the back, Arthur swallowed, leaning in to help guide the shaft as far in as he could take it.

They ended with the tip of his nose brushing against Percival’s neatly trimmed bush, but the tickle of the coarse hairs couldn’t even begin to compare with what it felt like to be stuffed so surely. Percival’s fingers trembled, though he didn’t let Arthur go, and the small gasps that billowed over and over within the room all came from him. Arthur tried to make a sound, tried to do anything, but he was just too full for anything to vibrate. The best he could manage was increasing the suction of his lips, but the second he did that, Percival began pulling him off.

But not all the way. Only enough for Arthur to take in a lungful of air. Then he was driving forward again, burying his cock as far into Arthur’s throat as he could get.

This was the rhythm they set, the long precious moments when neither one of them moved, when each savored the completion of the stroke, followed by the sure slides off, when Percival withdrew, when he pulled Arthur away, when he gave him the time he needed to breathe before starting all over again. Somewhere in the middle of it, Percival started talking again, but Arthur was flying too high, his head spinning as his lungs began to burn, to make out much of what he was saying. All he caught was the occasional, “Such a good little cockslut,” and “You love it, don’t you?”

Maybe it didn’t last as long as he imagined. Perhaps in the real world, the strokes into his throat were closer to a dozen than a hundred. But Arthur felt them all, he felt every twitch of Percival’s shaft, smelled every ounce of sweat that seeped from his pores. Even before the tempo became ragged, he knew Percival was close. The vein running along the bottom of his prick pulsed, and Percival slammed forward, ignoring any sense of decorum, and blasted straight down Arthur’s throat.

Arthur swallowed convulsively, though Percival was buried so deep it didn’t become necessary until he pulled out enough for the final shots to land on the back of Arthur’s tongue. He tasted bittersweet, and as Arthur gulped down the last few drops, his only thought was _it’s not enough_.

Percival was the one to pull Arthur off, hauling him to his feet and fusing their mouths together. He plunged past Arthur’s lips to seek out the last remaining pearls of come, and though Arthur didn’t really want to share, he twisted his tongue around Percival’s anyway, clinging to the other man’s broad shoulders as his body threatened to give out on him.

When Percival spoke, Arthur felt the words as much as he did the man’s smile.

“Your turn.”

* * *

All Percival wanted was to make Arthur feel as incredible as he did. He wanted his bones to melt, his muscles to turn to water, his cock to feel like another touch would dissolve the skin. He didn’t want to think too much about the fact that he’d just let loose on this near-stranger, or worse, that he’d actually indulged in the dirty talk he often fantasized about but rarely was comfortable enough to try. He just yearned to make this perfect moment stretch on for as long as humanly possible, and give Arthur the same kind of release a hundred times over. Anything to pay him back for as astonishing as Percival’s orgasm had been.

He kept his arms firmly around Arthur’s back, kneading the taut globes of his ass as their kisses slowed. Arthur had asked for him to return the favor, a feat Percival was more than happy to oblige, but he hadn’t dictated how soon afterward it had to happen. Normally, Percival would’ve bent right to the task, especially if Arthur’s cock was half as gorgeous as he expected it to be, but each burning kiss Arthur returned had him hungering for more. No mouth had ever been as talented as Arthur’s, no matter what he did with it. It kept Percival’s erection from flagging too quickly, even though his release had felt like it had been torn out of him, as well as filled his head with images of what it would be like to spend hours learning everything there was to know about it.

Slowly, Arthur slid down Percival’s body until his feet touched the floor again. Percival had to bend over now to keep the full contact, but it gave his hands freedom to roam, shaping over Arthur’s pecs, tweaking at his nipples through his shirt.

Arthur hissed at the first pinch. “You can do that as much as you want.”

Good information to have. Percival stored it away for future reference.

As he reached Arthur’s fly, the door handle rattled behind him. He gritted his teeth against the interruption, but kept on going. Time was running out on them. They couldn’t stay locked in the toilet all night.

“Percival!”

He stiffened at the alarm in Merlin’s muffled voice. Arthur noted the change and lifted his head, looking past Percival at the same time Percival turned to call out, “A little busy here, Merlin!”

“Trust me, I figured that out. But I need you out here now. It’s Gwaine.”

Mention of his friend spurred Arthur to break away. He pushed Percival aside in order to unlock the door, leaving him to fumble with shoving his cock back in his jeans before Merlin got an eyeful.

“You better come,” Merlin said when greeted with Arthur’s grim visage. He glanced past to Percival as Arthur bolted by him, and shrugged. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry.” 

They hastened back to the club, but his questions about what was going on died on his tongue as soon as they reached the main room. The music was still playing, but nobody on the dance floor moved. Nobody, that is, except for Gwaine and the three men circling him.

A rakish grin split Gwaine’s features, but blood already trickled from his lip and his shirt collar was torn. Arthur was elbowing his way through the crowd toward him, while the bouncer from the front door was trying to get to them from the other side. When one of the trio took another swing at Gwaine, Percival knew that neither one of them was going to reach him before all hell broke loose.

He leapt forward, using his size to knock more than a couple guys out of his way. His brute force added to the raw energy pulsing through the crowd, and their fears exploded when Arthur dove to tackle Gwaine to the ground. Gwaine’s sudden disappearance from the center sent his attackers into confused disarray. When one tripped a chubby twink who’d been watching from the sidelines, the hell Percival feared arrived.

Most people scattered. In trying to get out of the way of the fight, however, they ended up falling over each other, creating more chaos instead of helping to disperse it. Percival had to shove several from his path, but by the time he reached the epicenter, Arthur already had Gwaine to his feet, doing his best to try and haul him back from the fight. The bouncer helped by grabbing Gwaine’s ripped shirt. The music muffled Arthur’s angry shouts, but whatever he said, it apparently wasn’t enough to stop him from shouldering through the people with the bouncer and his friend in their hunt for a path back to the front door.

As soon as they were clear, Merlin appeared at his elbow and pulled. “Let’s get out of here.”

Percival followed without argument. When they reached the sidewalk, Arthur and Gwaine were already halfway down the block.

“Gwaine!” Merlin called after him.

Gwaine half-turned and offered Merlin a friendly salute. Arthur’s not-so-friendly yank jerked him back and out of sight around the corner.

“What happened in there?” Percival asked.

“Gwaine thought it would be fun to include someone else in our dance.” Merlin still watched the empty space Gwaine had just filled. “Except he didn’t bother asking the guy that someone was already dancing with.”

Personally, Percival thought Merlin was better off without such a mess, but he was tempted to drag Merlin in pursuit anyway. He and Arthur had unfinished business. At the very least, he hadn’t had the chance to give Arthur his number yet.

“I really am sorry I interrupted you,” Merlin said. “But I honestly thought Gwaine was going to get his face smashed in.”

“Arthur took care of most of that.”

“He should. He’s an expert at it.” The bouncer’s deep voice rumbled at their side, and they turned to see him back in position at the door. “Pendragon has to break him up from a fight most nights they come.”

That didn’t particularly surprise Percival, though he wondered how Merlin would react to the revelation about his new friend. Where his brain tripped was on the new information about Arthur.

“Did you say…Pendragon?”

“Yeah.”

He whirled to stare hard at Merlin. “Did you know that?”

Merlin shrugged. “Gwaine might’ve said something. Why? What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the…?” He gaped at his unsuspecting friend. “You seriously don’t know who he is?”

“All I know is he saved Gwaine’s ass tonight.” He punched Percival lightly in the arm, a sly gleam in his eye. “And he got you to smile. That makes him all right as far as I’m concerned.”

But Percival wasn’t thinking about how he’d smiled in Arthur Pendragon’s company. He was remembering how he’d called the son of the most powerful construction developer in the entire country a cockslut and proceeded to cut off the man’s air supply by fucking his throat like he was a blow-up doll. Arthur Pendragon. A man who could buy and sell Percival a million times over without having to dip into his savings to do it. He could break Percival’s career over his morning coffee and not even blink twice.

This was exactly why he should never have come out to Romp in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” Merlin asked.

Percival shook his head. “We’re going.” He practically sprinted across the street, racing to get to the Underground. Merlin chased his heels, but Percival didn’t stop or slow or even look back to check his friend was with him. He was too focused on getting as far away from the memory of his actions tonight as he possibly could.

Somehow, he suspected no amount of distance would ever let him forget.


	4. Chapter 4

Five more reps. That’s what it would take. Five more, and the endorphins would win, and his brain would turn off, and maybe—just maybe—he’d get five minutes of peace where Arthur Pendragon didn’t torture him by consuming his every waking thought.

Percival gritted his teeth and pushed past the screaming protests in his arms. He’d added extra weight, too, just to make it harder. Counting off in his head, he was aware of every bead of sweat dripping down the back of his neck, every burn along his shoulders where the muscles stretched, every degree of heat searing through this body. But when he hit five…

_Well, that’s a challenge if I ever heard one._

With a groan, he set the weights back in their rest and folded his arms over his face, trying to block out the image. Fuck. He was still there. Still smiling up at him with that teasing glint in his blue eyes. Like he had nowhere else he’d rather be but on his knees, ready to take Percival’s cock.

Four days should have been ample time to let it go. He barely saw Merlin, beyond going to and from work together, so he didn’t have that constant reminder niggling in his ear, and their new client had demanded most of their available hours. This was even his first opportunity to work out since the events at Romp, so really, he should have been more than sufficiently busy to not dwell on the fact that he’d picked up Arthur-fucking-Pendragon and fucked his face in a public toilet. Like he was some kind of cracked out slut instead of one of London’s most illustrious up and coming businessmen.

It figured that it would happen the one time he decided to act on a spur of the moment attraction. That wasn’t Percival’s style. He didn’t have Merlin’s gregarious nature. He couldn’t charm the pants off any guy that walked past with a smile or a wink. He felt awkward and stupid in front of most men he met, feelings that were exacerbated when it became obvious they were only interested in him for his body. Pure physical attraction was all well and good to take care of baser needs, but it did a real number on his notions of self-worth and esteem. He’d fought against his size his entire life, and the one time he’d decided to forget about it, he ended up dirty talking a man who could actually make a difference to his professional career.

He squeezed his eyes shut. The one good thing to come out of the night at Romp was Gwaine’s fight. It got Arthur out of the club before they could exchange phone numbers like he’d wanted. One humiliating experience was enough for Percival.

His head begged for more reps in hopes sheer exhaustion and pure pain would be enough to obliterate Arthur’s image, but his body was smart enough to shout, “I’m done!” Rolling up to a sitting position, Percival scooped up his towel and rubbed it over his face, scrubbing away the uppermost layer of sweat before he hit the showers.

“There you are.”

He froze, his face still covered. All right, now he was hearing things, too, because that sounded remarkably like Arthur’s amused voice. Right. In. Front of him.

“I think you’re going to need a much bigger towel if you want to hide.” The edge of his towel flicked, followed by a quick tug that yanked it out of his hands. Percival looked up to see a smiling Arthur, exactly where he’d heard him, standing there in a crisp pin-striped suit that was completely conspicuous in the half-empty gym, and utterly perfect for the man. Somehow, he looked even more delicious fully dressed in business attire than he had in clubbing clothes. “That’s better. The ostrich look doesn’t really work for you, you know.”

“What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you, actually. And see? Now I’ve found you.”

“Why?” This sort of blunt, obvious question was exactly why he had next to no social life beyond the occasional one-night stand. It was also more proof that Arthur Pendragon was completely out of his league.

“Because we never got to exchange numbers the other night like I wanted.” His slight shrug almost looked self-deprecating, but that had to be an illusion. “Sorry about that. When Gwaine starts up like he did, I’ve learned the best thing is to just leg it. I wasn’t even thinking until we were already on the way back to his flat and he asked me about you.”

_And what did you say?_ Curiosity gnawed at his belly, but the words stalled out on his tongue. He still couldn’t believe Arthur had sought him out.

“How did you find me, then?”

“Gwaine had Merlin’s number. So I hoped that since you two had gone to Romp together, he’d pass along your number to me. I didn’t realize you were business partners, too.”

“Merlin’s the business. I’m the brawn.” That wasn’t entirely true. Percival handled more than his fair share of the back-end of their private security company, but to the public, they’d always stuck to the stereotypes people automatically assigned to them. It garnered their trust if they believed Percival was the wall around which people would have to go to get to them and the more effete Merlin the brains behind the operation. Few people realized Merlin was a master in two different martial arts, or that Percival had graduated with top honors from the London School of Economics. Even fewer people cared.

“Right.” Arthur seemed unconvinced, still standing there with that damned smile on his face. “Well, regardless, I rang him, he told me where you’d be, so here I am.”

“Here you are.”

His inane repetition went unremarked upon. “Merlin also told me you were done with clients for the day.”

Merlin had a big mouth.

“Yeah.”

The grin widened. “You’re not making this easy for me.”

“Making what easy?”

“Asking you out. For dinner tonight. I thought we could go somewhere and have a conversation that didn’t require shouting at each other for a change.”

He didn’t remember a whole lot of shouting from the only other time they’d had a conversation. In fact, the words he remembered exchanging were nothing he’d ever repeat in public, or at a dinner table, or for that matter, to Arthur ever again.

“I don’t think so.”

Arthur stared at him for a moment, clearly waiting for him to say something else. When it didn’t come, his eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I thought we had an agreement. Or were you never planning on giving me your number?”

“No, I was planning on it. But that was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before you were Arthur Pendragon.”

His eyes narrowed, his head tilting in confusion. “As far as I know, I was Arthur Pendragon at Romp, too.”

He felt his ears go hot. This was why Merlin was the spokesman for their company. Nothing Percival was saying was coming out right.

“I didn’t know that. If I did, I wouldn’t have…” His voice trailed off as he glanced around at the other guys using the equipment. The gym really wasn’t the place for this. “You know,” he finished lamely.

“Not really,” Arthur said. Taking a step closer, he dropped the towel onto Percival’s leg, his gaze lingering there and on Percival’s crotch for a moment before lifting back up. “Look, I had fun the other night. I wouldn’t have wasted the time tracking you down if I didn’t think it was worth it. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Maybe something from the pub around the corner? I’d just like the chance to get to know you a little better.”

He looked so genuine, so like he had sitting at the table at the club when the world vanished around them and for a few seconds Percival felt like he might manage to string a few words together after all. He’d even danced with Arthur, for fuck’s sake. That meant something, didn’t it?

Maybe it only meant Arthur was hot. And Percival was really, _really_ lonely.

“I can’t,” he said, and hated himself for saying so. “I’m sorry.”

Arthur pressed his lips together. The time it took him to respond weighed like stones in the pit of Percival’s stomach. “I’m sorry, too. I can’t say I understand, though. I’m not in the closet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He had been, but it didn’t change his answer. “I don’t really date.” Which was true, if not the entire reason.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true.”

“Why were you at Romp, then?”

“For Merlin. He needed the night out.”

“And our dance? Was that for Merlin, too?”

No, that had been pure selfishness on his part, because Arthur triggered things inside Percival he couldn’t control very easily. He toyed with the towel’s hem, wondering what he could possibly say that didn’t make him look like a sex maniac, but came up with absolutely nothing.

Arthur sighed. “Well, if you change your mind…” Percival glanced up through his lashes in time to see Arthur reach inside his jacket and pull out a business card and a pen. Turning it over in his palm, he scribbled something across the back and held it out. “Call me. Any time. My phone’s pretty much glued to my ear.” The easy smile returned. He would’ve sworn there was a twinkle in his eye, too, when Arthur leaned down and added in a low voice, “Though I much prefer things glued to other parts of my body instead.”

With a chuckle and a nod, he left Percival sitting there, staring at the space he’d filled like he’d return to claim it at any moment. Eventually, he tore his eyes away to stare at the business card. It was heavy stock, elegantly embossed with the Pendragon logo in the corner and Arthur’s name and number in a bold block font across the front. When he turned it over, his heart practically stopped in his chest.

It wasn’t a private number like he’d expected.

_Challenges are always worth it. – A_

* * *

“Are you even listening to me?”

Leaning back in his office chair, Merlin rubbed at his eyes. When he’d told Arthur where to find Percival, he’d been confident it would work out. Regardless of who he was, Arthur had made a huge impact on Percival at Romp. Every time Merlin had peeked over at the table, the pair of them were closer and closer until they hadn’t been there at all. Somehow, Arthur had found a way around Percival’s crippling shyness, so it made perfect sense that he’d find a way to get Percival over this hang-up about his identity. And Merlin wanted him to. In all the time they’d been friends, Percival had never seen anybody more than once, and those had just been one-night—sometimes, one-hour—stands. He was one of the best people Merlin had ever known and deserved some happiness in his life. There was no logical reason he couldn’t get some from Arthur.

“Of course I am,” he assured. “I’ve heard every word.”

“So what did I say?”

“Butt out of your nonexistent love life.”

Percival sighed. “You don’t even see why this is a problem, do you?”

No, he didn’t, but Percival was blowing this way out of proportion. The slow and steady that made him an excellent business partner was the same thing that left his private life completely barren. “I won’t tell Arthur where you are again, okay?”

“Promise.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Promise.”

“I honestly thought—”

“Merlin…”

No budging. “Fine. I promise.”

In the background, a locker door slammed. Percival had been so upset, he hadn’t even managed to get out of the gym before ringing. “Is tomorrow set for me?”

Back to work mode. Merlin sincerely wished he could tell him no and force him to deal with whatever he was trying to avoid, but they’d struggled for too long to make their business a success. Their newest client was the result of months of networking and positive word of mouth, so the last thing they needed was to blow it off and risk a black mark on their growing reputation.

“All set.” Straightening, he clicked on the schedule item so he could read Percival the exact details. “Arrive at the gallery at nine. The show starts at ten, but they’re expecting a few people to arrive early, so they want to be ready for it.”

“Money or celebrities?”

“Both, they tell me. That’s why they want you early.” Household names tended to draw more people.

“I thought the gallery had their own security arrangements.”

“Apparently, you impressed Ms. Albertson so much at the last meeting, you’re the one she trusts most. Don’t knock it. This is exactly what we’ve been working toward.”

Percival’s quiet agreement didn’t fool him. Work was a welcome distraction, but he didn’t let go of things easily. The man internalized everything, where it settled to a simmer that seemed to forever shade his actions. Merlin would have to be careful about the subject of Arthur until this blew over, though he genuinely wished it didn’t have to. 

“What’re you doing tonight?” Merlin asked.

“Getting a good night’s sleep.”

“Before that.”

“Why?”

He ignored Percival’s wary tone. “Let me make this up to you.”

A sigh filled the line. “Just stick to your word. That’ll be enough.”

“How about we get a takeaway and watch _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly_ at my place? I won’t even complain when you commentate.”

“I only do that because you never pay attention.”

“And yet, I can still recite it word for word.”

Percival snorted. “It’s Clint Eastwood. That’s not very hard.”

Already, Percival was sounding better. Perhaps this could all be salvaged sooner rather than later. “Is it a plan?”

“You know it is. I’ll stop and get the dansaks.”

“Can you stop at the off-license, too?”

“You know, this is sounding less and less like you making it up to me, and more like me feeding you tonight.”

“I gave you Clint Eastwood. If this was really about me, we’d be watching Ewan.”

A chuckle. Even better. “You and your pretty boys.”

As tempting as it was to remind Percival about his own prettyboy, Merlin held his tongue. It was too soon. Though considering Percival’s reaction to Arthur, it might always be too soon. “I’ll see you at seven?”

“Seven it is.”

* * *

When the knock came at the door, the DVD was in the player, and Merlin’s usual mess was picked up and put away to avoid Percival’s commentary about how untidy he was. Merlin glanced at the clock as he went to let Percival in. Five of the hour. Of course he was early.

“You’re lucky I know you so well…” The rest of his tease died on his tongue when he came face to face with a grinning Gwaine, a more somber Arthur at his side.

“Not too well yet, I hope,” Gwaine said. “I’d hate to think I cultivate that air of mystery for nothing.”

“What’re you doing here?” They’d exchanged information with the intention of hooking up later—which was how Arthur had managed to track him down in search of Percival—but Merlin hadn’t spoken directly to Gwaine since the day after they met. With the new client to deal with this week, they’d agreed to hold off until Thursday, to better make plans for the weekend. Gwaine was forty-eight hours early.

“My fault, actually.” Arthur edged forward. “I wanted to talk to you about Percival.”

“And I just wanted to see you again.” Gwaine strolled in without waiting for an invitation. He moved with the confidence of a man comfortable with his surroundings. To Merlin’s delight—and chagrin, because his timing couldn’t have been worse—he looked like he belonged in Merlin’s space, too. “Got anything to drink?”

“We’re not here for that, Gwaine.” Arthur’s voice held a note of warning.

“You can’t be here at all.” Merlin glanced at the time again. Two minutes. Fuck. “Percival’s due any time now.”

Arthur lit up, like Merlin had just told him it was Christmas and his birthday all rolled up into one. “Wonderful. We can do this right then.”

“No, no, not wonderful. I promised him I wouldn’t interfere again, and now it’s going to look like I set all this up.”

“We’ll tell him we just stopped by.”

“He’ll never believe you.”

Arthur cocked a brow. “He doesn’t trust his best friend?”

“When it comes to what happened today? No, probably not.”

Gwaine flopped down in the corner of the couch, propping his feet up on the table. “What exactly did happen today? Arthur won’t share any of the gruesome details.”

“That’s because I don’t kiss and tell like you do.”

“Well.” Gwaine winked at Merlin. “I don’t tell, anyway.”

“You have to go.” Panic drove Merlin back to Gwaine, to grab the man’s wrist and try to haul to him to his feet. He wasn’t a big guy, but when he wasn’t actually helping, he was dead weight, especially since his outstretched legs made an effective bridge to keep him exactly where he was. “Come on, Gwaine. Please. He was serious about me keeping my nose out of it. This thing with Arthur has really rattled him.”

“Why?” Arthur posed the question as he stepped over the threshold, though the door remained open behind him. “I don’t get it.”

How could he explain in less than a minute when he didn’t really understand Percival’s hang-up either? “Can we not do this now? I’ll call you tomorrow and we can talk about it then.” _Please._

“What happened to your promise not to interfere?” Gwaine taunted.

“Talking to Arthur tomorrow is miles better than dealing with a brassed off Percival tonight. You don’t want this kind of aggro. _I_ don’t want it.” He gave up on pulling Gwaine’s arm and instead shoved at his legs. They swung easily, but then strong hands wrapped around his waist, tumbling him straight onto Gwaine’s lap.

“So call him and tell him you can’t do whatever you needed to tonight.” Warm lips brushed against Merlin’s neck, and against his better judgment, a rash of goosebumps rippled down his arm. “It’d be a shame to not take advantage of the fact that I’m here, and you’re here, and we never got to finish our dance properly the other night.”

Yes, that would be a hell of a bloody shame. His lashes fluttered shut for a split second, and he reveled in how good Gwaine’s arms felt curling him close against his chest. The chemistry between them had practically knocked him off his feet at Romp. Something about that impudent smile, the way Gwaine could look at him with a taunting glint in his eye, sucked Merlin in and left him breathless. He’d gone with the intention of letting loose and being the irresponsible one for a change—between his and Percival’s work ethic, and Lance’s overwhelming sense of duty, he figured he was due for a bit of acting out—but that would have likely involved flirting with as many fellows he could and then leaving them high and dry. 

Gwaine shattered those preconceptions. Once they made eye contact, Merlin didn’t even see anybody else.

“Except I’m here, too.” Arthur’s wry voice came from the doorway, snapping Merlin back to the real world. “And as much fun as it was to watch you two, most of that was because I had Percival sitting next to me.”

Though Merlin tried to stand, his awkward position made it hard without Gwaine’s aid. And Gwaine seemed perfectly content, maybe even a little smug, to have Merlin squirming against his lap.

“Then it looks like you’re in luck.”

When Gwaine nodded toward Arthur, Merlin’s gaze followed it, only to jump past Arthur’s shoulder to see Percival standing behind him. Percival looked from Arthur to Merlin, and even across that distance, the hurt betrayal in his eyes spoiled any kind of fun Merlin might have been having in Gwaine’s arms.

“Perc—”

“Don’t.” With his head held unnaturally high and stiff, Percival turned on his heel and disappeared back down the hallway.

“Let go, Gwaine.” Merlin pushed at his hands, desperate to get up. “I’ve got to go talk to him.”

“No,” Arthur said. “I’ll do it.” He pointed a warning finger at Gwaine. “And if your fucking around has messed up their friendship, I’m going to kick your ass, understand?”

The arms around Merlin fell away, but Arthur was already gone, the door shut behind him, by the time Merlin found his feet. He whirled on Gwaine and glared.

“If Arthur can’t convince Percival I had nothing to do with this, he won’t be the only one kicking your ass.”

Gwaine smiled. “As much fun as it would be letting you, I have every confidence in Arthur. He’s very persuasive.”

“And Percival’s very stubborn.”

“Even better.”

“He already turned Arthur down once.”

“Arthur wouldn’t be where he is today if he gave up on something he wanted at the first sign of resistance. And trust me. He _wants_ Percival.”

Gwaine’s confidence was convincing, but believing Arthur would be diligent didn’t mean he had to condone Gwaine’s contribution to this whole mess in the first place.

“Maybe you should leave, too.”

Perhaps his seriousness about the whole matter was finally getting through. The smile slowly faded, and Gwaine sat up. “It’s not as bad as that.”

Merlin didn’t look away. “If I did something out of pure selfishness that wrecked your friendship with Arthur, would you be so willing to let me hang around?”

A twist of his lips that wasn’t a smile, wasn’t a smirk. “Sometimes, I think anyone who’s willing to let me hang around even on my good days has got to be an absolute nutter.” He rolled to his feet, all liquid grace in even that. “Sorry about that, Merlin. I’d like to say it won’t happen again, but, well, me and promises don’t exactly get on all that well.”

Though Merlin might have been having his doubts about Gwaine, when the man put it like that, his first instinct was to contradict him. But Gwaine was already moving to the door, and he _had_ suggested he go, so he stood there mute until Gwaine was at the door.

And still silent as Gwaine walked out.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur knew only one thing as he took off after Percival. He hated that look of betrayal on Percival’s face. The last thing he’d wanted in seeking Merlin out was to make matters worse, but sometimes Gwaine wore blinders when it came to other people’s reactions. It was why he got into trouble so frequently, because he failed to see consequences beyond the next moment’s decision. Or chose to ignore them, at least. Arthur knew for a fact it was often the latter disguised as the former, but if he’d learned one thing about Gwaine over the years, it was that he had no desire to change his ways.

Merlin’s flat was on the third floor, and though they’d taken the lift up, Arthur chose the stairs to go down. Percival had selected the same route. The ground floor door slammed as Arthur reached the first level, and he practically leapt down the last flight to catch Percival before it was too late.

He spotted him on the other side of the street, heading straight for the tube station on the corner. Darting through the oncoming cars, Arthur angled his trajectory to reach the curb next to Percival and jogged the last few feet to catch his arm.

“Hey, wait a sec—”

Percival yanked out of his grip. The carrier bag he held banged against his leg as he shot Arthur a furious frown. “Don’t.”

“Then stop.” When Percival didn’t, Arthur darted in front of him to block his path. “Let me explain.”

Enough people were on the walk to make it difficult for Percival to get around him easily. He had no choice but to draw up short, though the stiff way he held himself had him poised to bolt at the first opportunity.

“There’s nothing to explain.”

“There _is_ ,” Arthur pressed. “Merlin had no idea we were coming right over.”

Percival’s gaze moved upward, staring over the top of Arthur’s head. “Right. Of course he didn’t.”

“He told us what he promised you.”

“And I can see exactly how well he kept that promise.” He shook his head. “I should’ve known his invitation was too convenient.”

Arthur hadn’t known that detail. From Percival’s perspective, it really was damning. “I’m telling you the truth. I called Gwaine and talked him into bringing me over here. I was hoping Merlin could give me some tips on how to get through to you.”

“Some people might call that stalking.”

“I call it being resourceful.”

“I told you no. I meant it.”

“I don’t think you did.” That startled Percival into glancing at him, though the moment was too brief to really relish. “What is it you think is going to happen if we go out once?”

“Why does it matter to you if we do at all?”

“I hate losing.”

The disgust in Percival’s laugh made Arthur’s skin crawl. “So this is a game for the almighty Arthur Pendragon. And you really wonder why I turned you down?”

“It’s not a—damn it.” 

Percival had finally found a break in the passers-by, slipping past Arthur before he could stop him. His long strides ate up the distance to the station, and though Arthur rushed to follow, enough pedestrians got in his way to slow him down. Percival disappeared down the stairs, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was taller than everybody around him, Arthur would’ve lost him for good.

“Percival!” At this point, he wasn’t above shouting after the man, not when he refused to listen. He had to convince him Merlin was completely inculpable in this, if nothing else. A date didn’t even matter anymore. “Percival!”

This time, he reached him just as he was about to swipe his pass. Arthur wasn’t careful, putting all his strength into jerking Percival away from the stile. It was harder than it looked, the muscle beneath his fingers steeled to break his grip any moment, but they stumbled off to the side, away from the people queuing to get through behind Percival, more than one curious glance shooting their direction.

“Don’t do this,” Percival warned.

“What?” Arthur challenged. “Tell you you’re an idiot for thinking Merlin would turn on you like that?”

“You don’t know us.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I’ve been trying to remedy that, but someone’s proving too much of a stubborn oaf to make that possible.”

His mouth thinned, but for a split second, Arthur could have sworn he saw a flash of guilt behind those hazel eyes. He pounced on the opening, because that was the man he remembered from Romp, that was the one he was convinced Percival was when he wasn’t thrown off-guard, the vulnerable wrapped up in the take-charge body, the one who invested so much in his friendship he put aside his own needs to satisfy others first. That was why he’d been so angry at Merlin’s presumed betrayal. Merlin had warned them, and if Gwaine had taken it half as seriously as Arthur had already known it was, they wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

“Forget what my assumptions are,” Arthur said. “Do you honestly think Merlin would go back on his word once he gave it to you? Is he _that_ kind of friend? _That_ kind of business partner?”

His pointed questions drove another chink in Percival’s armor. His gaze slid down, but when it remained on Arthur, it slid sideways, too, retreating from the fight he’d initiated by running away. “Sometimes Merlin does what he thinks is best, regardless of how other people feel about it.” His voice was low enough, Arthur had to strain to hear him over the dull roar from the Underground. “Like telling you where I was today when he knew I didn’t want to see you again.”

He’d deal with the crap about not seeing each other later. Fixing the friendship with Merlin was the priority. “Had he promised he wouldn’t?”

A pause. “No. Not until I asked him to back off after you left.”

“So you really think he’d break that promise when it’s obvious how you feel about it?”

Another hesitation, longer this time. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“That’s my fault,” Arthur said. “That’s all on me. I should’ve made Gwaine ring Merlin first, because if he had, then we would’ve found out you were coming, and I would’ve waited until it was a more convenient time. That was my mistake, and I’ll own that. But Merlin had nothing to do with it. Nothing. He tried kicking us out, and Gwaine wasn’t having anything of it, and, well, you saw the rest.”

Little by little, some of the angry shell dissolved. He fought the urge to reach up and touch Percival’s face, or to kiss him and make the rest of it melt away. The more he saw of Percival, the more intrigued he got, and not just about what it would be like to get his hands and mouth on the man’s cock again. Pride lurked beneath that shy exterior, but with it, something else, something so fleeting and intangible Arthur couldn’t catch it before it was gone.

“Why did you have to come at all?” Percival asked. They both understood he didn’t just mean to Merlin’s. He referred to the gym, as well. “It was one night. Not even a night. An hour. In a club. What’s wrong with leaving it at that?”

The truth was his only weapon.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about that one night. That one hour. You. It’s driving me crazy.”

“You know that still makes you sound like a stalker.”

“I know. Trust me.” He dared a grin. “I’ve dealt with more than my share of crazy in my time.”

The muscles within his grasp relaxed a fraction, and the tension in Percival’s shoulders dropped. 

Neither one of them spoke. Arthur waited for the questions, or the accusations, or even perhaps an apology for jumping to the wrong conclusion, but though Percival took a breath once as if to say something, no words were uttered. It gave him time to savor what it felt like standing so close to the object of his nighttime lusts of the past few days, how similar their positions were now compared to what they’d been like in the toilet at Romp. If Arthur slid to his knees now, they’d both be arrested, but an irreverent voice in the back of his head taunted him to do it anyway. Fuck the consequences. Fuck the headlines that would likely show up as a result.

And fuck any chance he might actually have with Percival. Because if he knew anything about the man by this point, it was his cautious, careful nature.

Deliberately, Arthur let him go and stepped back. “Answer me this,” he said. “Did you have fun?”

Percival surprised him with a snort. “That’s a daft question.”

“Not from this side of the no you keep giving me it’s not.”

“You know I did.”

“Have you thought about it at all since?” He held up a hand to cut Percival off before he could reply. “I’m not talking about finding out who I am. I’m talking about you and me, and our dance, and what happened before Gwaine became the center of attention again.”

He knew he sounded bitter about Gwaine’s interruption of what had happened. Frankly, he was. Things might have ended very differently between them if Percival could’ve spent some more time with Arthur before finding out who he was, especially since the latter seemed to matter to him so much. And it was Gwaine’s fault they hadn’t left in time before Percival arrived, though just as much of that blame rested on Arthur’s shoulders, too. He loved Gwaine to death, and there was very little he wouldn’t do for his friend, but sometimes, he really wished he could see beyond the moment.

“Yes.” The answer was so muted, so wary, Arthur wouldn’t have believed he’d heard it if he hadn’t seen Percival’s lips move. “That doesn’t change who you are, though.”

“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t. But me being a Pendragon doesn’t change what happened between us, either.”

Percival fidgeted with the carrier bag, and the smell of curry wafted upward. He must’ve brought dinner with him, to share with Merlin. To discuss work? To play video games? It didn’t matter. Arthur had interrupted their plans, and he was beginning to think he didn’t actually deserve a date with Percival after all.

“One drink.” Percival took a long breath and lifted his gaze, meeting Arthur’s squarely without the residual anger still walling him away. “That’s what I’ll give you. To see…well, to see.”

His heart leapt. He hadn’t expected the concession. He’d only hoped to lay the groundwork. But if Percival was willing to make the offer, he’d be a fool to turn him down.

“One drink.” He smiled and wondered if it looked as giddy as he felt. “I won’t be presumptuous and ask if I can have it now.”

“Good. Because I need to talk to Merlin.”

“How about I call you tomorrow to arrange a time?”

Percival shook his head. “I’m working. But if you call Merlin, he can give you the details. Maybe…we can meet up when I’m done.”

No maybe about it. Arthur would move the moon to make it happen. With a nod, he stepped farther away, gesturing toward the stairs. “Go. And don’t be too hard on Merlin. Gwaine can be obnoxiously persuasive sometimes.”

Percival didn’t smile but returned the nod as he brushed past. Arthur watched him climb the stairs, waiting until he was already out of view before walking out, too. Letting him walk away this time was earlier than leaving him at the gym. Because now Arthur had something to look forward to.

One drink. If it turned out the way he expected, it wouldn’t be their last.


	6. Chapter 6

_The sour smell of too many bodies drifts up from the bowels of the Underground, layering with the electrics and the construction grit and the exhaust-filled wind that blows in from the streets, but Percival isn’t aware of any of it. He’s too focused on the body he has pinned against the map, the sharp angle of cheekbone visible on the side that’s not pressed flat against the cold glass, the strip of skin he’s just exposed as he’s yanked the shirt free from Arthur’s trousers._

_“Do it,” Arthur pants. The tendons in the wrist Percival has clamped against the wall shift and dance beneath his fingers as Arthur makes a fist, not to run, not to fight, but to brace against what he’s begging for. Blue eyes glitter. That swollen lower lip shines from where he just licked it. “C’mon, Perc, it’s not like you haven’t been thinking about it.”_

_“Shut up.”_

_But Arthur doesn’t, the way he doesn’t do anything Percival wants until Percival makes him behave. “You wanted my ass from the second I walked by you at Romp.”_

_“You’re a cocktease.”_

_“A tease doesn’t put out.”_

_“You didn’t.” With the shirt out of the way, he runs his fingertips over the hot skin of Arthur’s lower back. The muscles in his forearm go mad. “I wanted your ass, not your mouth.”_

_Arthur squirms against him. The ass in question grinds into his erection, because Percival has already opened his jeans, too impatient by now to care who might walk into the station and see them. After what Arthur has put him through, the little slut has it coming to have his hard body splashed across the rags, there for everyone to see him getting split open by Percival’s cock. “You’ve got it now.”_

_“Fucking right I do.”_

_He bends to lick away the sweat that has collected on Arthur’s jaw, at the same time shoving his hand unceremoniously into the back of the man’s trousers. The closure snaps at the force he uses, and the garment slips down Arthur’s strong thighs, exposing bare skin and a leaking cock and Percival’s fingers disappearing between his buttocks._

_“No pants?” Percival’s mouth waters, especially when his fingertips skim over Arthur’s clenching hole. “I guess I was wrong. You’re not a tease. You’re a slut.”_

_“Never said otherwise.”_

_The tight ring twitches when Percival touches it again. Both of them moan. Percival can’t even breathe for how badly he wants to get inside Arthur, though right now, he doesn’t care if it’s his cock, his fingers, or his tongue. Or all of the above. That works, too._

_“Who’s the tease here?” Arthur tilts his hips as much as Percival will let him. The way his ass flexes, it’s almost like he’s trying to pull Percival’s fingers inside. “Either fuck me or stop the games. I didn’t track you down not to get what I want.”_

_It takes all his control, but Percival stops moving. He doesn’t lift his mouth away from Arthur’s ear, either. He’s so close, his hot breath washes back onto him when he speaks. “You think this is about what you want? Think again. The almighty Arthur Pendragon isn’t so mighty here, mate. This is about me fucking you. Like I should’ve done at Romp.”_

_“And yet, you’re still not doing it.”_

_“And you’re still talking.”_

_Without letting go of Arthur’s hand, he hooks his forearm across the front of Arthur’s throat, tightening until Arthur has to tilt his head back against Percival’s shoulder if he wants to breathe. The weight is welcome. In fact, he wants more. When they’re done here, he’ll take Arthur back to his flat, sprawl in his big bed so Arthur can ride him, and watch that glorious, hard body rise and fall above him…_

Percival’s eyes shot open, and he stared up at his bedroom ceiling, gulping for breath. Sweat drenched his body and the sheets tangled around his legs. He didn’t need to look down to know his cock was tenting the sheets, too. This wasn’t his usual morning wood. This was heart pounding, skin vibrating, balls aching lust for the man who’d taunted his dreams.

He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to obliterate the images that lingered. This dream was worse than the others. He could practically taste the fumes from the Underground, feel every inch of Arthur’s ready and willing body straining against his. The words he’d uttered in his dream still echoed inside his skull, and even though they weren’t real, his face went hot in embarrassment. Nobody had ever elicited such a primal reaction from him before. The intensity of the dreams had to be because of how strong his emotions had been when he’d left Merlin’s, but the rest of it…

He sighed. There’d be no getting back to sleep now. He couldn’t face Arthur. He didn’t even want to consider the fact that he’d actually agreed to a drink with the man.

Though he didn’t have to leave for the gallery for another three hours, he rose and began getting ready, taking his time putting on the kettle and adding an extra hundred push-ups to give his hard-on time to abate. Showering was harder. Every swipe of the sponge over his skin, no matter where it was, sparked shivers that made him ache for someone else’s hand, someone else’s mouth. It took less than five seconds for that wish to morph into Arthur’s image, and he turned the water as cold as it would go to get rid of the intrusion. He ended his shower with goosebumps created for the right reasons this time.

The job required a suit due to its setting, and though he’d hung his out the night before, he ironed it again since he had time to kill. He changed his tie three times, unsure which projected the best image. More time was wasted by reading through the client’s file again, refreshing his memory on the short list of people they were most concerned about. As far as jobs went, it was one of the least dangerous they’d ever taken. Ms. Albertson was known for being difficult to work with, though. He hadn’t got that impression from her during their meetings, but a public affair with her work on display might be the necessary venue to bring out her artistic temperament.

Though he had the urge to ring Merlin and ask him to come earlier than they’d agreed, he didn’t need to. Merlin arrived half an hour before their allotted time, looking surprisingly dapper in his own black suit. Sometimes Percival wished he could be attracted to his best friend. His life would certainly have been easier. But even when they’d first met, they’d been more comfortable as friends than anything else. And considering the transitory nature of Merlin’s love life—and Percival’s nonexistent one—friendship had proven the better choice.

Neither one of them commented on the other’s ready appearance, just as neither brought up what had happened at Merlin’s apartment the night before. Percival was grateful when Merlin chattered about the day ahead of them. It gave him strength to concentrate on what truly mattered and not a certain blue-eyed blond with the most fuckable mouth he’d ever seen.

His dreams were shuttled even further out of the way upon their arrival at the gallery. Elena Albertson was already there, pacing up and down the length of the room as she barked last minute instructions at the two assistants that trailed behind her. Percival hung back, allowing Merlin to take the lead and approach her. He had to admit, he was a little baffled at how he’d managed to impress her. The few times they’d spoken, he’d mostly just sat there and listened to her talk about her horses. She was as passionate about them as she was her art, and he’d found her charming even if he didn’t quite know what to say to her.

“Percival!” She lit up when she spotted him standing inside the door. Brushing past Merlin, she swept to the front of the gallery, grasping Percival’s hand and pumping it as soon as she was within touching distance. He couldn’t resist a quirk of his lips. She was likely one of the few people who seemed as awkward as he did in social situations. “Please tell me you’re going to save me from utter boredom today.”

“Well, I’ll save you from whatever’s necessary.”

For some reason, she found that funny, and her laughter filled the room. Looping her arm through his, she pulled him away from the door, resuming the conversation they’d had the last time they’d met as if no time at all had passed. Merlin hid a smirk as they passed, but Percival was already in work mode. 

Protecting Elena Albertson from unwanted attention today was his sole priority. He would do whatever he must to make that happen.

* * *

Only a few people remained. At its peak, Elena’s show—around ten, she had started insisting, very loudly, that he call her by her first name or she’d have no choice but to refer to him as “boy”—had attracted two hundred guests on the floor, a number Percival knew was exact since fire codes restricted just how many people could be in the room at a single time. Merlin had kept an eye on the door, while Percival had watched the displays, keen to find any of the potential threats he’d been warned about.

More than once, he’d wondered why Elena had opted for a public daytime exhibition rather than a more intimate evening one. She clearly wasn’t comfortable playing the media darling, and yet, she’d chosen the longest possible exposure to the same people she couldn’t stand. He didn’t get it. Or at least, he wasn’t so sure he’d have the same stamina. It was admirable, and as the day progressed, he found himself being even more diligent about keeping her protected.

He was certain that was the sole reason he noticed the woman hovering near a sculpture near the front window. Because on the surface, she didn’t resemble the photos he’d been provided. Her figure was rounder, the wild black curls threaded with more gray. If he hadn’t caught her repeatedly glancing at Elena, he might not have ever made the connection.

He stepped away from the small group Elena chatted with at a moment when nobody would notice his absence. Without glancing in the woman’s direction, he began another circuit of the room, the same circuit he’d made countless times already, keeping her position fixed in the corner of his eye. His pace remained leisurely, his head high. Just a routine inspection, that’s what he wanted her to believe, that’s what he wanted everyone to believe. Even Merlin failed to realize anything was amiss.

Percival approached from behind, waiting until the last moment to come around her and block her view of Elena. Stooping slightly to keep his words even more intimate, he murmured, “Please step outside, Mrs. Albertson.”

Elena’s estranged stepmother jerked back, her wide gaze flying upward to meet him. “Why I—”

“You don’t want to make a scene,” he warned. He maintained the same calm tone. Strength came in not showing weakness. “If you leave quietly now, no charges will be pressed.”

Her nostrils flared. “I have every right to be here.”

“No, you don’t. The injunction makes it perfectly clear you’re to stay away from your stepdaughter.” He cupped her elbow, on the surface a polite, friendly gesture but strong enough to prevent her from pulling away. “This is not a request, Mrs. Albertson. But it doesn’t have to be a scene, either.”

She kept trying to see past him, but his broad shoulders blocked any view she might have had. Several onlookers began to glance curiously in their direction, and Merlin edged closer, finally aware there was a situation at hand. Percival gestured out of Mrs. Albertson’s sight that he had it under control, all without taking his eyes off her.

“I just wanted to congratulate her,” she wheedled.

“I know.” He played the understanding card. Hers was the type of personality that would respond better to a firm but gentle touch. “But breaking the law to do so is not the way to go about it.”

Her rounded shoulder sagged. “Will you tell her I was here?”

“Of course.” He wouldn’t be surprised if Elena had figured it out already. Carefully, he took the first step toward the door, relieved when Mrs. Albertson followed without a fuss. “I appreciate you not making this more difficult than it has to be.”

He kept his hand on her arm until he’d managed to flag a taxi and get her inside. When he turned around to return to the gallery, Elena hovered in the doorway, her face even paler than normal.

“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t even see her.”

Percival offered what he hoped was a consoling smile. “That’s because it wasn’t your job.” 

They had been warned about the restraining order on Mrs. Albertson from the start. She was the one person Elena feared showing up and disrupting everything the most. But they had never learned of the specifics that had necessitated the injunction in the first place. Those were details Elena had guarded fiercely, and he’d respected that need for privacy, defending Elena’s right to it when Merlin tried to convince him they were vital to keeping her safe.

“Trust me,” Percival had told him. “If Ms. Albertson says she just wants the woman kept away from her, I’ll take care of it. I don’t need to know why.”

Elena joined him in front of the gallery, her arms wrapped around her. A pang of sympathy for her hit him. Because it wasn’t cold outside.

“It’s almost over,” he said. “Would you like to wait in the back room while I see to clearing the rest of the guests?”

She shrugged. “At this point, I just want to be anywhere but here. I don’t suppose you’d like to join me for dinner, would you?”

As he opened his mouth to politely decline, a taxi pulled up across the street. He glanced at it out of habit, then stopped and stared as Arthur climbed out of the back seat. He’d managed to hide from thoughts of Arthur since the gallery had opened, even forgoing lunch in order to stay too busy to think. But now, escape was no longer possible.

Neither was looking away once Arthur spotted him, too.


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur was early. He knew that. Merlin had been very clear about their timetable, as well as stressing how skittish Percival still was, regardless to what he’d agreed to. Percival also took their business very seriously, so an imposition that might affect their job for the day would likely be regarded in the most unflattering light.

Still, sitting at his office had been interminable. He’d attempted to turn his lunch meeting into one that would last all afternoon, for the sheer sake of keeping his mind occupied on the new development in the Docklands, but Uther had curtailed those efforts with plans of his own for the engineers, leaving Arthur to twiddle his thumbs and think about Percival.

Running home to change hadn’t killed nearly as much time as he’d hoped. Light traffic had worked against him, too. So when he climbed out of the taxi, he was utterly prepared to loiter on the walk as long as he possibly could so he didn’t seem even more eager than he already was.

Percival spoiled that by already being there.

Well, it wasn’t spoiled, per se. Because the Percival he laid eyes on was another version of the man he had yet to see. This one stood tall and proud in a dark suit that must have been custom-made to accommodate his height and breadth. He wore an earpiece that lent him an executive air rather than highlighted his service position, and his clean-shaven jaw was relaxed, his mouth almost smiling as he spoke to the blonde woman at his side. This Percival wore confidence and power like he’d been born to it, almost completely unrecognizable from the man he’d met at Romp or the one he’d surprised at the gym. 

He was, without a doubt, breathtaking like this. Arthur was hard before he took one step to cross the street.

Percival didn’t blink as Arthur approached, though his posture stiffened and he edged slightly in front of the woman with him. Just as Arthur was going to greet him, Percival ran his tongue over his lower lip, and the words died before Arthur could get them out. It had to be a completely unconscious gesture. Something people did every day without thinking about. But on Percival, in that moment when Arthur could barely remember his own name let alone consider what might be normal or not, it was the most sensual thing he’d ever seen.

He smiled as his mind raced to retrieve what he’d been about to say. Percival’s silence didn’t help matters. It heightened the weight of the space between them, at least until the blonde stepped around Percival and thrust her hand out.

“Welcome to the showing,” she said. “Though I’m afraid the gallery won’t be open for much longer.”

He slid his gaze to her. Her friendly face helped orient him again. “Lucky for me, then.” He shook her hand, pleasantly surprised at her strong grip. “Since that means Percival should be free soon.”

“Oh?” She looked between them. If she noticed the rising color in Percival’s face, she didn’t remark on it. “Are you another client?”

“A friend,” Percival offered before Arthur had to scrounge around for a descriptor. “We made arrangements to meet up when I was done here.”

He wasn’t backing out of it. When relief washed over Arthur, he realized he’d been terrified Percival had changed his mind.

“Then I guess that’s my answer to my dinner invitation, now isn’t it?” She shifted her smile to Arthur. “I promise not to keep him too long. Though I suppose this means I’ll have to go with the others for drinks. I can only hope it’s not quite as dull as it was last time.”

She seemed so dismayed by the prospect, Arthur felt guilty. “If tonight’s inconvenient--”

“No,” Percival said. His gaze slid to the woman. “But if Elena doesn’t mind, perhaps we could go with her.” He cracked a small smile, oddly affectionate. Though he knew it was ridiculous, Arthur couldn’t help but be a little jealous that this Elena was rewarded with one and he hadn’t been. “It’s my job to protect you, after all.”

Her laughter was rich and genuine. “One of these days, I’ll have to learn how to protect myself from boredom, all by myself.”

After glancing at his watch, Percival nodded to the front door. “I’ll take care of the rest of the guests and let Merlin know what the plan is. I won’t be long.”

“You really don’t have to come along,” Elena said once they were alone on the walk. “If you have plans…”

“I think Percival prefers it this way.” A group setting might make it easier for Percival to relax. And if he was relaxed, he’d be more likely to admit Arthur wasn’t the threat he assumed.

“We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Elena Albertson.”

“Arthur Pendragon.”

“Actually, I knew that. Our fathers know each other.”

“Ah. Sorry. I didn’t realize.” Uther knew a lot of people.

“Did Percival work for you? Is that how you met?”

The third degree was unexpected. She’d shown grace at losing out on the dinner she’d obviously hoped for with Percival, so Arthur didn’t completely understand where this was coming from. He also didn’t want to infringe on Percival’s privacy by revealing too much. The safest wager seemed to be… “Merlin introduced us, actually.”

“I met Merlin first, too. Though if I’d met Percival first, I probably wouldn’t have dithered about hiring them. He’s very…easy to talk to.”

Arthur’s brows shot up. “Really? You think so?”

“Oh, of course. He’s an excellent listener. I don’t feel like a phony when I talk to him. He doesn’t judge me like everybody else does.”

Now, he laughed. “You’re very lucky, then. As soon as he found out who I was, he was nothing but judgmental.”

She cocked her head in curiosity. “That doesn’t sound like him at all. Are you sure he wasn’t just nervous?”

“What would he be nervous about?”

“You’re Arthur Pendragon.”

“Now you sound like him.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. But I think it’s because I understand him. The question is, do you?”

He wasn’t quite as prepared for the astute observation as he would’ve hoped. Elena’s bluntness wasn’t typical of most women he met. “Obviously not as well as I’d like.”

“Perhaps you should change that.”

“That’s the goal.”

She nodded in approval. “Good. I like Percival. He deserves to have friends who appreciate him.” Grabbing his wrist, she began tugging him toward the front door. “Let’s go help wrap this thing up. The sooner I get something to drink, the happier I’m going to be.”

Arthur let her lead. He was too busy trying to parse what she’d said to him. Nervous. He’d known that. Percival’s shyness was practically a cloak, hiding him away from society. But something about it ran deeper, something Elena saw so clearly Arthur desperately wished he could, too. Perhaps his answers would come tonight.

Because when they did, he would banish those nerves for good.

* * *

Gripping the edges of the pedestal sink, Percival hunched over the bowl, fighting the waves of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. This was what he’d agreed to. A drink. With Arthur. And he was the one who’d suggested they tag along with Elena and the others, so he didn’t have anybody else to blame for that, either. His initial thought was that he was doing both of them a favor—Elena for keeping her company when she clearly wished to do anything but go to the pub and himself for not being forced to be alone with Arthur again—but he hadn’t thought it through well enough, because now he had to converse with them as a group. On a social level, not a professional one. With Arthur sitting right there in the middle of it, witness to his every inadequacy.

And why did he have to look so bloody good tonight on top of everything else? No suit today. Oh, no, Arthur had to go and find black trousers that draped over those strong thighs like silk and a red jumper that clung to his broad shoulders like it had been hand-stitched just for him. Percival’s mouth had gone dry at the sight of him. He was lucky to flee when he did before either of them noticed his hard-on.

A knock came at the door. “Everybody’s getting ready to leave,” Merlin called out.

“I’ll be right there.”

Gulping for air didn’t help. Catching his pale reflection in the mirror didn’t help. He couldn’t even pry his hands off the damn sink.

The handle turned, and Merlin slipped inside. Percival really should’ve locked it behind him.

“You okay?” Merlin asked.

Percival met his gaze in the mirror. “Did you see who I invited to tag along?”

“Yeah. Ms. Albertson’s giving him the grand tour.”

He ignored the questions of what they might be saying to each other. Elena was just being polite and making small talk. There was no reason to think they were talking about Percival, because that would be the height of self-centeredness to even consider.

Except Elena hated small talk. And she hated phoniness. And if she was talking to Arthur, he was talking back to her. Percival was the only thing they had in common.

His head dropped. “Oh, God.”

“It won’t be so bad.” Merlin was far too chipper about this. “In fact, you might not even have to talk to Arthur tonight if you don’t want to. Sit next to me.”

“He’ll make me reschedule.”

“He can’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

“Have you actually met the man?”

“You turned him down at the gym.”

“And yet, he got me to agree to this, didn’t he?”

“You agreed to this because deep down, you wanted to see him again. Whether you want to admit it or not.”

When he met Merlin’s eyes this time, Percival couldn’t contain his frustration. “I don’t know what to do around him. I don’t act like myself.”

“You mean you smile for a change?”

“Romp doesn’t count.”

“It should. For two seconds, you were actually enjoying yourself.”

That was the problem. He’d enjoyed himself too much.

“What am I possibly going to say to him?”

“Whatever you want. Honestly, Perc? I think you’ve got it all backwards.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You keep acting like he’s the one with all the veto power here, when you’re the one who’s been telling him no. I don’t think it really matters what you two talk about, because Arthur’s going to be glad for whatever he gets at this point.” Merlin rested his hand on Percival’s shoulder and squeezed it in reassurance. “Forget about whatever problem you have with who he is. Do you like him?”

Lying would’ve been a waste of time. Merlin could see through it in his sleep.

“Yeah.”

“So try it out for a couple hours. And if it doesn’t work out, then at least you’ll know. But if it does…”

He didn’t need to finish the thought. Percival’s mind filled in all the blanks for him.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the sink and stood tall, examining his reflection critically in the mirror. “I look like shit.”

“You look fine.” Merlin peered around his shoulder wearing an impish grin. “Besides, something tells me Arthur won’t be looking as high as you think he will.”

When Percival moved to swat at him, Merlin laughed and danced out of his way, pulling the door open. Immediately, the drift of voices from the gallery got louder. Percival braced against the rush of nerves it brought and followed Merlin out.

He couldn’t have separated Arthur’s voice from the rest of Elena’s coterie, but his eyes went right to him anyway, unerring in their hunt, unblinking when they met the increasingly familiar blue irises. That rush of air escaping his lungs returned, but somehow, he managed to keep his balance, even striding confidently through the room to come to Elena’s other side, all without toppling over or otherwise making a fool of himself.

“Did you show Arthur the sunset painting? That one’s my favorite.” He directed the query to Elena, though his focus was still on the man.

Arthur’s head swiveled toward the picture in question, a miniature framed oil in the corner that had somehow escaped purchase. “I’ve actually seen that particular view,” he commented. “Elena captured it perfectly.”

He’d managed to finagle a first name basis with her already. Percival tamped down the jealousy that sprang out of nowhere. Feelings like that were ridiculous, no matter how real they felt.

Elena shrugged. “Pity nobody else thought so. Though I suppose if I’m going to be stuck with unsold work, I could do much worse than one that doesn’t make me cringe when I look at it.”

“Why would you cringe?” Arthur asked.

“Artistic process,” Percival replied. He’d listened to Elena talk about how uncomfortable it was to view her pieces once they were done. She rarely saw the beauty in the finished product and instead spotted only its deficiencies. He explained it for Arthur, grateful for a neutral topic, but when he finished, Arthur was gazing at him with an odd smile on his face. “What?”

Arthur shook his head. “Nothing.”

Before he could press, Elena’s assistant appeared at her elbow, announcing their departure. The small group was on the walk without his having to say another word to Arthur, but his reprieve from conversation was unmercifully short-lived.

“I can’t believe you got Mrs. Albertson to leave without a scene,” the assistant said. “How on earth did you manage that?”

All eyes turned to Percival. He couldn’t even defer to Merlin on this one since he’d been the one to handle her. “I just talked to her.”

“You had to do more than that,” Elena said. “She’s not the sort to go quietly into the night.”

He sneaked a glance to his side. Arthur seemed to be the only one not hanging on his response. “That’s all it was. Perhaps I said something that convinced her it was in her best interest to leave this be for now.”

“Percival’s actually quite good at that,” Merlin chimed in. “Doing what he does, he has to be.”

“I thought he just had to look ready for a bit of a bash,” someone from behind them piped up. “I know I’d leave if he told me to.”

A few sniggers rippled through the group. Percival held his tongue against his rising discomfort. Better not to engage. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard it all before.

“I imagine his line of work requires a tad more than that,” Elena mused. She hadn’t joined in the earlier laughter. “I don’t recall anybody else spotting my mum until he had her out the door.”

“People take security for granted.” This from Arthur, unexpectedly so. “The best never have to lift a finger. It’s about planning and patience.”

He stared at Arthur with startled delight. “Yes. That’s it exactly. If I’m doing my job right, people never even notice I’m there.”

“Well, I don’t know if that’s possible.” Arthur’s smile seemed to be just for him, the world tunneling away until Percival saw nothing else. “You’re more than a little a noticeable.”

Another round of chuckles, though these didn’t bother Percival nearly as much as their predecessors. He was too enraptured by the appreciative glint in Arthur’s eye, the one that said he wasn’t talking merely about Percival’s height. Somebody made a comment about the gallery’s private security, and the conversation shot off from there, but Percival was done with it, too absorbed in replaying the brief bits Arthur had contributed already, too distracted by the casual brush of Arthur’s arm against his as they walked along.

The pub was just around the corner, and Percival hung back as they reached it, holding the door to allow the others to enter first. It was habit from work, that need to be the last, to be the one who watched out for the rest, but part of it was the desire to watch Arthur without drawing attention to it. Merlin hid his smirk when he walked by, but Elena’s smile was knowing and kind, which only made Percival wonder again what she and Arthur had talked about in his absence.

“First round’s on me,” Arthur announced as they huddled around the bar.

“Oh, no,” Elena said. “This is courtesy of a hard day’s work.” She went around and got everybody’s order, then shoved at Percival’s arm. “Go sit. You’re off duty now.”

He obeyed, with Merlin and the others at his heels. Arthur slid into the seat at his left, and for a split second, he was back at Romp, and the noise in the background throbbed with a bass line, and nobody else was in the room but the two of them.

“This probably wasn’t what you were expecting.” The need to apologize for thwarting Arthur’s plan was too strong to ignore.

“I’ve stopped trying to predict anything when it comes to you,” came the teasing reply.

“I couldn’t just abandon Elena, though.”

“Always on the job?”

He caught Arthur’s gaze and deliberately held it, though it might have been one of the harder things he’d done all day. His heart thudded as he admitted, “No, not always.”

Drinks arrived, but in spite of her call for boredom, Elena chatted away on the other side of Merlin, away from Percival and Arthur. Nobody seemed interested in interrupting them, but whether that was a response to vibes they gave off or an unspoken order from Elena, he had no idea.

“So how exactly did you get in this line of work?” Arthur cradled his pint glass between his hands. Percival kept glancing at the condensation that dampened his fingertips. They’d be cold if they touched Percival right now. He’d get goosebumps. Of course, he was likely to get goosebumps any way Arthur touched him.

“It was Merlin’s idea.”

“Merlin? Really?”

“I was looking into joining the police force when Merlin suggested it. Working for ourselves felt like the better alternative.”

“Quite a risk.”

He shrugged. “Anything’s a risk.”

A knowing nod. “I did wonder if you’d inherited the business in some way, but that makes sense.”

That line of thought had likely been provoked by Arthur’s own circumstances. Percival let it slide, though his stomach began churning again. “Couldn’t have happened. I don’t actually have anyone to inherit anything from.”

The confession came freely, without prompting, without hesitation. It wasn’t until it was out there between them that he realized what he’d done and fervently wished he could take it back.

But Arthur didn’t take it the way he’d anticipated. His gaze ducked, and he took a long sip of his beer, the muscles in his throat working in delicious temptation. Percival did his best not to stare, but really, when Arthur tilted his head like that, and every sinuous line was on display, how could he not?

“You must not think very much of me.”

He’d been wrapped up in a private fight not to reach out and skim his fingers down the side of Arthur’s neck. Arthur’s quiet declaration startled him back into the moment.

“Because I turned you down?”

“You did it because of the name, remember? So I suppose it makes sense you’d not be so keen considering who my father is. I probably look like a spoiled prat to you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well, not in so many words, at least.”

Percival frowned. “No, I mean I didn’t _say_ that. I follow the news. I know what you do. You probably put in more hours than your father.”

It was Arthur’s turn to frown. “But you still have a problem with who I am.”

From out of the corner of his eye, Percival caught the slight turn of Elena’s head in his direction, her interest piqued by what they were discussing, even as the other conversations swirled around her. As much as he liked her, he disliked the notion of his business being aired so publicly more, and he ducked his head, angling closer to Arthur.

“It’s not who you are.” He grimaced. “It’s not _just_ who you are. It’s about how I acted, too. What that could mean for me and Merlin.”

The frown deepened. “I’m not following. I thought you and Merlin were just friends.”

“We are. I’m talking about the business. We’ve worked bloody hard to get it where it is. I can’t muck it up.”

“It doesn’t look like you are. Elena certainly thinks the world of you.”

He gritted his teeth at Arthur’s casual use of her first name. Yet another reminder of how much they must have talked in his absence. “My business relationship with her isn’t the one I’m worried about blowing up in my face.”

“But we don’t have a business relationship.”

“Not in the traditional sense. But you work with some of the most influential people in the city. After what happened at the club…”

Every time he recalled that time, his body went to war. Embarrassment fought with lust, pleasure fought with anxiety. His skin went tight, and his heart hammered for freedom. The only response any of it had in common was the heat it brought to his flesh, incinerating from the inside out until he was sure he had to look like a boiled lobster from the force of it.

A long drink of his beer helped a little, but he couldn’t meet Arthur’s eyes. The weight of his gaze was too much as it was, not to mention the attention he was sure Elena still bestowed upon him.

“I was right, then,” Arthur said, his voice low and resigned. “You really don’t think much of me if you think my being out means being an asshole, too. I’m not like Gwaine. I know there’s a time and place for everything. Anything that happened that night would’ve stayed private, regardless of whether you’d asked me to do it or not.”

It didn’t sound like a line. Then again, little of what Arthur said sounded insincere. Percival had dealt with enough guys in his lifetime who wanted a quick fuck to recognize when he was being played, and not once had he ever got that inclination from Arthur.

Worse, he wanted to believe him. Every fiber in him screamed for it. Arthur seemed willing to be patient with Percival, without getting mean or coy about it, as well as curious about the man instead of just the body. 

Would it be so bad to believe in something good for a change?

Taking a deep breath, he straightened and looked up, meeting Arthur’s solemn gaze for a long moment before turning to Elena. “Thank you for the drinks, but Arthur and I are going to head out now.” A round of “oh no’s” came from the others, as well as a sharp turn of Arthur’s head when Percival pushed himself to his feet. “Dinner awaits, and when you’re my size, you don’t make it wait too long.”

She laughed at his small joke, easing one of the knots in his stomach about his sudden decision. “Of course.” She jumped up and came around the table to give him an awkward hug, stretching to kiss his cheek at the same time. “He’s very pretty,” she whispered for his benefit only. “Make sure you have fun.”

He was convinced his face and ears were beet red when she pulled away, especially when he saw Merlin’s pleased smile. With nods to the others in the group, he headed for the exit, too nervous to check to see if Arthur was behind him until they were outside.

Arthur wore a bemused smile. “Dinner?”

He nodded. “We’ll have more privacy that way. It’s…hard enough for me to talk to you without an audience.” He tried not to fidget under that discerning gaze and failed. “Because you’re right. You’ve been nothing but nice, and I assumed the worst. I’d like to make it up to you.”

“With food.”

“With a date. A proper date.” He braved adding, “You look too good not to show off.”

The light dancing in Arthur’s eyes fueled Percival’s simmering courage. “We’ll have to wrestle for that honor, I think.”

“Something tells me I’d win.”

“Oh, definitely.” The way his gaze flickered down Percival’s body, eating him up, showed he was more interested in the literal interpretation of their banter than anything else. Right then, though, Percival didn’t mind, especially when Arthur teased, “But that’s one battle I don’t mind coming out on bottom for.”


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner was not what Percival expected.

Since he’d been the one to drag Arthur away, he let Arthur choose the restaurant. Any number were scattered around the neighborhood, ranging from takeaways to places so posh Percival felt underdressed even in his suit, but Arthur selected a small Italian café rather than someplace showier. At Percival’s request, the hostess sat them at a secluded table, and though they had to tolerate noise from the kitchen, they remained undisturbed for the most part, only interrupted by their waiter whenever they needed refills or service.

Conversation veered to the mundane. At least, that’s what it felt like. Arthur broke the ice by asking about Elena’s art, and the neutral topic put Percival at ease by the time they were ready to order. From there, they moved to football—Arthur was even more rabid about the sport than Percival was—and movies—Arthur surprised him by having a weakness for slapstick—and music—Percival was useless there, but as it turned out, so was Arthur. He might have been chatting with Merlin, except for the fact that every time Arthur smiled, Percival was enchanted by his mouth, and every time Arthur laughed, the low rumble went straight to Percival’s cock.

Neither one of them made any mention of this being a date. Or the events at Romp. Or their unfortunate meetings at the gym, Merlin’s flat, the tube—well, anything but that night, really. For Percival, it was a deliberate choice. He wanted a fresh start, the chance to get to know Arthur the way they’d originally intended. He kept waiting for Arthur to allude to the dance or the rest of it, but it never came. The furthest Arthur ever went was the brush of his fingertips along the side of Percival’s hand when he took the menu to pass back to the waiter and a brief nudge of his knee against Percival’s thigh when he relaxed after dessert. That was it. And each touch only intoxicated Percival more, wending his thoughts in increasingly naughty directions as their dinner progressed.

Though Arthur reached for the check when it came, Percival beat him to it. “I invited you.” He slipped his debit card inside without looking at the balance. He didn’t want to appear gauche in front of Arthur. “This is my treat.”

Arthur shrugged and sat back. “All right then. But next time will be on me.”

_Next time._ Percival had been so wrapped up in _this time_ that he hadn’t even considered what might come later. His hand shook a little as he pushed the check to the edge of the table for the waiter to pick up, and for the first time since food had arrived, his nerves convinced his gaze to settle anywhere but on Arthur.

“It doesn’t have to be right away,” Arthur said. Was he that easy to read? His whole career was based on being that menacing blank wall people ran against, and yet, Arthur seemed to see through that every single time. “But you have to admit, this was fun.”

He nodded because Arthur was right.

“And am I the ogre you thought I was?”

“I never thought that.”

“Oh, come on. You were almost calling me Shrek.”

He couldn’t resist. “Not to your face.”

Arthur laughed. “So what are you going to call me behind my back now?”

Merlin would have had a quip ready. Percival might have, too, if it had been anyone but Arthur, and if they hadn’t just spent a pretty enjoyable couple of hours together. He wanted to prove he was ready to move on, that he could trust Arthur, that he could trust himself _with_ Arthur. 

That required honesty, not humor.

“Maybe it’s time I stopped doing that altogether.” He forced himself to relax, as difficult as it was. “You’re not what I expected.”

The smile warmed, and Arthur leaned forward on arms folded in front of him until he was so close Percival could see the tiny, almost golden flecks near the pupils of his eyes. “I didn’t expect this either, you know.” His tone invited intimacy, coaxing Percival closer. “I should make a confession now before it’s too late.”

Percival froze. “What?” Every permutation rifled through his mind in the blink of an eye. None of them were good.

“That night at Romp…I let you believe something that wasn’t entirely true.”

“Something worse than me finding out you’re a Pendragon?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“You.” He glanced down, more nervous than Percival had ever seen him before. That didn’t bode well. Arthur was the most self-confident man he’d ever met. Well, next to Gwaine. “When you told me you wanted to fuck me, I made a joke about not ever having anyone as big as you before. And that’s true, but not for the reasons I hinted at.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve never bottomed at all before. Guys I usually go out with…they’d probably have more in common with Merlin than they do with you.”

The floor felt like it was buckling beneath his chair. If Arthur hadn’t already said he wanted another date, he’d think this was a brush-off. It wasn’t like he’d never had one before. Or given one, for that matter. But in light of what he admitted, the things Percival had called him rang even more offensive. Fuck, what had he been thinking? Arthur was as far from being a cockslut as someone could possibly get. So his offense had been twofold, instead of the single he’d been living with the past week. Fan-bloody-tastic.

He swallowed against the Sahara of his throat. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Arthur’s gaze snapped up. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yes, I did. What I said—”

“—I enjoyed.” He reached and caught the back of Percival’s neck, pulling him close. It was the first direct contact of the night, and the firm grip branded into his skin. The hairs rose on Percival’s arms, and he leaned into the pull, drawn to Arthur like he’d been from the beginning. Heat billowed between them, both tangible and not. He could smell it, taste it, feel it. He could see it in the hard glow of Arthur’s intense eyes. “Listen to me for a second, all right? I loved every bit of what happened, full stop. Every bit. If I’ve never been fucked before, it’s because I’ve never met anyone I wanted to do it, understand? I didn’t even realize it was something I wanted until I saw you there.”

They were words he’d dreamed about, those confessions from Arthur about what he wanted from Percival, the affirmations that it was Percival who drove him mad. Whatever attraction had sparked between them from the moment they set eyes on each other blew into full flame, ignited by the truth of how powerful their mutual desire was. Doubts he might have had about Arthur’s intentions fled, destroyed by the naked longing in the man’s voice. He ran his tongue over his dry lower lip to ease speech, and almost laughed out loud at the way Arthur’s gaze hungrily followed the simple movement.

“I have a confession to make, too, then.”

Arthur was still staring at his mouth. “What?”

“The dirty talk. I’ve never done that before. But with you…I couldn’t stop.”

A slow, decadent smile. “Looks like we have a lot of firsts between us.”

“And you don’t think that’ll get in the way?”

“I think it’s a breath of fresh air. I’m never quite sure what I’m going to get from you. And then when I get it, I realize it was exactly what I wanted. Even if I didn’t know it.”

Percival shook his head. “I’m not that complicated.”

“I never said you were. You’re…surprising.”

The admiration he didn’t bother masking brought a blush to Percival’s cheeks, but he held firm from looking away this time. No more fear. No more anxiety. Arthur wanted what he had to offer, respecting Percival’s choices at the same time. He could do what he wanted, say what he wanted, and wouldn’t be thought less for it. If anything, Arthur seemed to suggest he’d think even better of Percival if he acted the same way he had at Romp.

“It’s not a surprise that I still want to fuck you, though,” he said, his voice inviting the intimacy.

“Absolutely not.”

“And? Are you willing to try even though you’ve never done it before?”

“More than ever.” Arthur ran his thumb along the tender skin below Percival’s ear. Such an intimate caress. He didn’t even look like he was aware he was doing it. “But not yet. That would be like swimming the Channel when you’ve only learned how to hold your breath.”

“That’s not a bid to make sure I go out with you as often as possible, is it?”

“Would I be so devious?” Said with a twinkle in his eye that made Percival chuckle.

“Then I can wait.” It would be worth it. Of that, he was certain.

“I’m glad _you_ can.”

“It doesn’t mean…” Out of sight, he balled his hand into a fist, as if that would give him the strength he needed to trust in what might come. “I don’t have to top. If you were interested.”

Arthur’s nostrils flared, and the fingers at Percival’s neck tightened. The pain pricked into pleasure, his own muscles hardening at the prospect of returning the same kind of hold. “Oh, God, yes.”

The swiftness of his impassioned agreement buoyed Percival’s confidence. “And in the meantime, I have no problems using your mouth until I get what I really want.” He closed the distance until his lips grazed along Arthur’s, their hot breath mingled into one. “We already know you swallow like a champ.”

He claimed the kiss they both craved, with no permissions, no waiting. Arthur opened to him immediately, but Percival forced himself to keep it slow, tracing the full curve of that luscious lip, back and forth and back and forth in sweeps that maddened both of them. Arthur whimpered, his hand digging his grip in deeper, but he took what Percival gave, then gave back in return, until they were both panting when they parted.

“We should probably walk out of here before we get kicked out for public indecency,” Arthur said.

Percival grinned. He felt lighter than he’d felt in days, light enough to float away if Arthur hadn’t been rooting him in his chair. “I thought that was Gwaine’s gift.”

“Clearly, he’s a bad influence.”

“I’ll have to warn Merlin.”

“I think Merlin might already suspect.” Arthur sat back, and Percival almost yanked him across the table to finish what they had started. “Thank you for this, by the way. As long as we’re being honest, I didn’t think I stood much of a chance past the drink.”

Percival returned his smile. “That makes two of us. I’m glad we were both wrong.”

“And now?”

He wasn’t entirely sure. He only knew he didn’t want this to end yet.

Arthur saved the day when he couldn’t figure out how to respond.

“A drink at my place.” The long, lazy drop of his gaze to Percival’s obscured lap would have been the most exhilarating part of Percival’s night if it wasn’t for what Arthur said next. “We’ll work on teaching me how to hold my breath for longer.”


	9. Chapter 9

When Percival’s phone rang while they waited for a taxi, Arthur turned away to give him the semblance of privacy. His keen ears still managed to pick up on Percival’s side of the conversation, though.

“I’m fine, Merlin. It was just a meal… I mean it. Stop…Because it’s none of your business, that’s why. Did I grill you about Gwaine? …Sorry, I know, I forgot with all this. I won’t mention him again.”

Unseen, Arthur frowned at the mention of his best friend. He knew things were rough between Gwaine and Merlin, though Merlin throwing Gwaine out hadn’t actually come as a surprise. But Arthur had assumed that was a temporary measure. The pair got along fabulously, and in spite of Gwaine’s lapse in judgment, he would have sworn Merlin would forgive him for it. Everything worked out for the best in the long run, after all, and Gwaine had a magic touch in getting people to turn the other cheek. He hated to think Merlin might be the exception.

“Sorry about that,” Percival said when he disconnected. “He worries.”

Banishing his concerns about Gwaine, Arthur flashed a smile. “Considering some of the fantasies I’ve had about you, he probably has a right to.”

The adorable flush crept up the back of Percival’s neck again, but he didn’t back down from Arthur’s teasing. He was improving in that regard, not as put off by compliments or flirtation as he’d been at the start. Deep in his heart, Arthur hoped he didn’t lose the blush entirely. The scarlet stain promised heat, and he yearned to feel it against his lips, absorb some of that passion that lurked beneath the surface before Percival unleashed it properly.

The taxi pulling up in front of them stifled any response Percival might have made. They glanced at it at the same time, both of them hesitating. This night might have been Arthur’s idea, but that didn’t mean he could just grab Percival’s hand to tug him forward. He could prompt, suggest, coax, but Percival had to be the one to make the move. Of everything he’d discovered about the man in the past week, that was the clearest. Percival would follow, but only after initiating the journey. Push too hard, and he dug in his heels.

Arthur could, however, hold the taxi door for him, settle a hand in the small of his back when he bent to climb into the rear, let his fingers drift downward to trace over that tight ass before Percival pulled completely out of his reach. He could smile, all innocence, when Percival shot a frown over his shoulder, and once inside the car, could choose to be as close to Percival as their clothing would physically allow.

Percival squirmed, but didn’t slide away. Arthur rested a reassuring hand on his knee and rattled off his address for the driver without taking his eyes off Percival.

“No second thoughts?” he murmured. 

Percival snorted. “I’ve got second, third, and fourth thoughts.” When Arthur stiffened slightly, ready to withdraw, Percival covered his hand, pinning it in place. “But I’m not letting them win tonight.”

So much to think about in those words—Percival’s doubts, his determination to take control of what he wanted in spite of them—but Arthur couldn’t ponder any of it, not with the weight of Percival’s broad hand completely blanketing his own. The temperatures he’d imagined from the flush along his neck radiated from the firm but gentle grip, the slight damp of his palm betraying the nerves that ran beneath his calmer demeanor. 

His mouth watered. That same moist heat would collect in other parts of Percival’s body—the crook of his groin, behind his balls, the crack of his ass. Would he lay still so Arthur could lick him clean? He wanted to dig his tongue into all the hot, dark places he was sure few people got to explore. 

That train of thought led to more questions, like…when was the last time Percival had been fucked? When Arthur parted those tight cheeks and ate his ass to get him ready, would he have to fight the muscles keeping him out? He imagined it would take the same kind of patience sliding his cock in as it had coaxing Percival into a drink. Guys wouldn’t look at Percival and automatically think about bending him over. He certainly hadn’t.

But it would be worth it. It really would.

He barely noticed the trip home, too absorbed in his thoughts for conversation, though he wondered what had consumed Percival to keep him silent too. The same fantasies he had? If not the same, similar if the occasional flare of his nostrils and caress along the side of Arthur’s hand was any indication. He wanted to drag Percival closer, but the taxi was at the curb, and he had to pay the driver, and—Percival’s jacket fell open as he climbed out of the back, exposing more fully the arousal he’d sported the entire ride.

Through the window, Arthur regarded the man who bewitched his every waking moment, the tall, broad body unfolding to a sharp, tempting line. It had been an eternity since he’d been this obsessed with a potential partner. It should have scared him, especially since Percival was so unlike all the rest. But it didn’t. He found it exhilarating, the way the world dropped away when Percival stepped into it. 

The driver cleared his throat. Arthur handed over a wad of folded notes without care about how much he was overtipping and followed Percival onto the walk.

He kept his smile casual, masking his excitement as well as he could, and led the way to the door. Percival hung back, still unspeaking while Arthur ran his passkey over the front door of the building, while they strode in the same vein through the lobby, to the lift, then at his side as they rode up to the eighth floor. His quiet was another entity, as heavy and present as another person. Another night, and Arthur would have feared it meant frustration. Tonight, he’d trust the continued company was a good sign.

“So about that drink…” Stepping inside his flat, he headed straight to the sidebar. He reached it alone, but when he glanced back to tease Percival about dragging his feet, the sight stopped him. 

Percival stood on the edge of the room, tall and stiff, his gaze sweeping over its contents. Arthur was used to people admiring it. When he’d bought it after uni, he’d had most of the interior walls knocked out to make it as open plan as possible. Hardwood floors added to the illusion of space, as well as the floor-to-ceiling windows looking over the nearby park. Rich brown leather couches marked off the lounge area, and a tall marble bar created a demarcation for the top of the line kitchen. He’d warmed it up with pieces from places he’d visited around the world, but as much as he liked them, he didn’t even notice them much anymore.

Percival did. And it wasn’t exactly admiration on his face now.

_Shit._ He couldn’t lose him, not after all the work he’d done to get him here. Before Percival could use the obvious wealth as a reason to bolt, Arthur strode back across the room, grabbed his hand, and dragged him toward the bedroom door.

“Arthur—”

He tightened his grip, ready to fight against Percival’s greater strength. “Stop thinking. It’s just stuff.”

“It’s expensive stuff.”

“It’s not important. We established that already.”

“Arthur—”

“No. No more running.” He shoved the door open, heedless of the way it slammed against the wall. He crowded Percival against the smooth surface, tilting his head back to dare Percival to look away. “I’ve been waiting for you to feed me your cock all night. Don’t think for a second I’m letting you leave until I get it.”

A tremor visibly ran through Percival, but the tension from his potential flight dissipated. For all their talk at dinner, there was every possibility they wouldn’t get that far tonight. He couldn’t say he wouldn’t be disappointed, but he was a patient man. As long as he stayed smart, they would both eventually get what they needed.

“Arthur…”

The trepidation was gone. This was a plea. Percival tunneled his free hand through Arthur's hair, anchored him in place, and crushed their mouths together.

The kiss at the restaurant had been both devastatingly slow and devastatingly sensual. He’d felt the restraint, known exactly how hard it was for Percival to yield even to that much public display, and reveled in it all that much more, aware of what it cost the other man. But this…this was a kiss to get lost in. He opened to the onslaught and shivered at the ravenous sweeps of Percival’s tongue through his mouth, searching out corners, stroking across the roof. When Percival bit at his lip, Arthur bit back. He would bend to Percival’s will, but he wouldn’t make it easy. Neither of them would be happy with that.

Percival tugged free of Arthur’s grip, but without the fear that he would abandon them now, Arthur let him. He slid hot fingers beneath Arthur’s jumper, curling around his waist. “I want to see you.” His words beat a tattoo against Arthur’s sensitive lips. “You don’t get my cock until you’re naked.”

Arthur grinned. “Best deal I’ve heard in months.”

Grabbing the hem, he yanked the sweater over his head and tossed it aside. He lost sight of Percival in the seconds his view was obstructed, but once he had it back, found the man devouring Arthur’s chest with his eyes.

Fingers dug into his flesh, keeping him near, but Percival didn’t let him go to make getting rid of his trousers as easy. He toed off his shoes and kicked those out of the way as he worked at his belt and zipper. The more open they became, the faster Percival’s breathing became, the tighter his hold. When Arthur pushed his briefs down his legs at the same time, Percival sucked in air hard through his teeth.

“Fucking you just might be the highlight of my decade,” he murmured.

Though he didn’t have much room, Arthur slithered his hand between their bodies and grasped his cock, delighting in the way Percival watched him stroke it lazily up and down. “I knew you’d be the highlight of mine when I saw you at Romp.”

Percival reached around and cupped Arthur’s butt, hauling him upward. His feet left the ground, and his balls slammed almost painfully into Percival’s belt, but it leveled out their gazes so he didn’t have to crane his neck to look at him. Even better, it clamped him in Percival’s rock-solid embrace. He wasn’t a small man, but for a split second, he felt vulnerable to Percival’s strength.

Whether the flipping of his stomach at that thought was a good or a bad thing, he had no idea.

“You drive me crazy,” Percival said. “I don’t know who I am when I’m with you.”

He sounded genuinely confused, his eyes like a little boy lost. Arthur hooked an arm around his neck, securing his place against him, and smiled, hoping he’d believe his sincerity. “That’s all right. We’ll figure that out together.”

No time to breathe before Percival was kissing him again. Their tongues twisted together, their lust somewhere between the tease at dinner and the sheer need of a few minutes earlier. The rub of fabric against his bare skin, knowing his dripping cock was smearing all over Percival’s perfect suit, fueled Arthur’s passions even more, and he clung to the broad shoulders until his muscles quivered from the effort.

Or it might have been caused by his raging desire for Percival. That was entirely possible, too.

He felt Percival moving, but didn’t bother opening his eyes or breaking away to see what he was doing until the duvet brushed against the back of his legs. Percival laid him down, and though Arthur grabbed to keep him there, withdrew to stand at the side of the bed.

“Stay there,” he ordered.

Arthur propped himself up on his elbows. “How am I supposed to suck you if I’m here and you’re over there?”

“You’re not.” He tugged at his tie. “But that’s only temporary.”

Further words died as he realized Percival was undressing. Even if the power of speech hadn’t escaped him, he wouldn’t have interrupted this particular show for anything.

The tie came off first, slipping free of the collar in a silken whisper. Percival draped it carefully over the knob on the wardrobe door, then slid off his jacket. He hung that with the same care on Arthur’s trousers press. Each item was meticulously removed and stored, with no casual glances toward Arthur out of the corner of his eye, no banter to lighten the mood.

Arthur didn’t mind. It gave him all the time in the world to appreciate the body he’d been treated to at the gym, without the clothes getting in the way. The broad chest was completely bare, with only the finest of trails narrowing down his rippled stomach to disappear inside his trousers. Flat, coppery nipples were already puckered to tight little points by the time the shirt found a hanger in the wardrobe. And those biceps that had tormented him at Romp, the result of hours of weights, flexed and twitched with every movement, making his mouth water, his balls ache.

The second Percival peeled away his black boxer briefs, Arthur dropped his attention to the man’s cock. He was fully erect, pre-come glistening on the cut tip, proportioned so perfectly he should’ve been captured in marble for the world to salivate over. Just the sight of it was enough to hone the memories of that night on his knees, what it had felt like to feel its thickness pushing into his throat, how the spots had danced behind his eyes when he’d held his breath for a moment too long. His head spun thinking about it. He needed that back, more than he’d dared to admit.

When Percival turned away to hang up his trousers, though, Arthur got his first glimpse at his bare ass. He’d known from the tight jeans that it was delectable, but seeing the light fur outlining his crack—hell, seeing how fucking narrow the crack actually was, he could probably slide his cock along that valley with just a little bit of lube and find it tighter than most holes he’d filled—almost drove him to his feet to satisfy the fantasies he’d had in the taxi.

He must have made some kind of sound, because Percival paused and glanced back at him. Arthur lifted his chin, daring him to tease, daring him to do anything because frankly he was ready for an excuse to pounce on the man, but Percival didn’t. He only smiled, a slow, knowing curve.

Arthur curled his fists into the duvet. He’d stay in place. It would be worth it.

A naked Percival finally closed the wardrobe door and returned to the bed. Climbing on, he straddled Arthur’s chest, pausing as his gaze went to Arthur’s arms.

After a moment, he got the hint. He laid back, stretching his arms along his sides.

Percival inched higher. Heat radiated from his body, but he didn’t stop until his balls nudged against Arthur’s chin. The scent of his musky sweat filled Arthur’s head, an intoxicant of the highest order, while his weight, though not settled on Arthur’s body, definitely bore him down into the mattress.

“What was it you wanted again?” In spite of how low Percival’s voice was, it carried an edge of command not to be ignored.

Arthur licked his lips. “Your cock.”

“That wasn’t all.”

“For you to feed it to me.”

Percival ran his thumb along the corner of Arthur’s lips, pulling it away when Arthur tried to turn and suck it into his mouth. “Cocksluts don’t dictate how they get it. They just get to take it. Understand?”

Nobody had ever called him a cockslut before Percival. He probably would’ve flattened anybody who tried. But when Percival uttered the name, a frisson of sharp lust went through him, electrifying everything from his scalp to his toes. Perhaps because with him, it was true. For this particular man, he _was_ a cockslut, through and through.

“I get it,” he breathed.

“Not yet.” Cradling the back of Arthur’s head, Percival held him still as he angled his cock downward with his other hand, dragging the wet tip across Arthur’s mouth. “But you will.”


	10. Chapter 10

Percival felt like he was going to fly out of his skin.

Muscles quivered beneath the surface, so fast and light he couldn’t see their twitches, but fuck if he didn’t feel them battering him from the inside out. They had started on the ride over, subsided slightly when he’d been overwhelmed by the money splashed around Arthur’s flat, only to return with Arthur’s determined drag to the bedroom. He’d hoped taking his time getting out of his clothes would help quiet them down, but that had only prolonged the anticipation, especially with the way Arthur tracked his every move.

Nobody had ever looked at him like Arthur did. He’d had hungry leers from every type of man under the sun, but Arthur’s gaze was different than that. His had a heart-stopping need with the hunger, a glow of appreciation and knowing that nobody else possessed. Sometimes, Percival thought he’d combust under its steadiness, but as much as he knew he should look away, its allure always seemed to pull him back.

Like now.

Arthur hadn’t fought when Percival straddled his chest. Even now, his arms were loose and relaxed at his side, out of the way as he gave control over to Percival. Eyes almost black from blown pupils gazed up at him, trusting, aroused, ready, and his parted lips were wet in anticipation of Percival’s prick sliding inside. Percival wanted to taste the pre-come he’d smeared across Arthur’s mouth, but that would mean moving so he could bend down and kiss him again, and neither of them wanted that just yet.

Lifting up on his knees a little gave him the right angle to get the tip of his cock positioned correctly. Arthur already had his jaw relaxed, but at the first nudge of the head against his lips, he opened wider, his tongue scooped, a ready bed for Percival to slide against. Wet heat soaked into the shaft as Percival guided a few inches inside, and immediately, Arthur sealed around him, suckling as if he was ready to pull the come out of Percival right now.

“Like that, don’t you,” he murmured. He clamped down on muscles that threatened to take over and force the rest of his length in before Arthur was prepared. Slow. Arthur needed to beg for it. Percival needed to see how much he wanted it, how far he would go to get the rest.

He set a lazy rhythm, keeping a firm hold on Arthur’s head in case he got ideas about reaching upward to take more. He never pulled completely free, always stopping at the ridge behind the crown, which gave him free rein to use his other hand. His fingertips tickled at the corner of Arthur’s wide mouth, dampening from the saliva that slowly dripped out. His mind boggled that Arthur was literally drooling on his cock. Then he moved upward, dancing over the heavy brows, tracing the strong nose, memorizing his face as it appeared at this very moment.

When Arthur began to whimper in frustration, Percival smiled. “Not enough for you?”

A small shake of his head scraped the sharper point of a canine across his cock. Percival sucked in a hard breath as a new tremor raced through his thighs.

“Fine. The cockslut wants to play it a little rough, I can accommodate that.”

Instincts fought the decision he’d already made. A week ago, he would’ve caved to them, backing off from overwhelming Arthur like this, but things were different now. Arthur wanted this. In all honesty, _he_ wanted this. They’d already made permissions and desires clear.

He wasn’t hurting Arthur by using his strength and size.

Without taking his eyes off Arthur, he pushed forward, filling the warm cavern of the other man’s mouth more completely than he had on previous strokes. Another inch passed those firm lips, and the tip of his cock hit the soft resistance at the back of Arthur’s throat. He was ready to withdraw when a ripple skittered across the head.

_Fuck._ Arthur had swallowed.

His hips thrust the rest of the way without any further hesitation. The wet constriction around his prick was tighter than he remembered, the flashfire of hot breath across his pubes more intense. His balls rested heavily on Arthur’s chin, and he had the sudden desire to bury those in Arthur’s throat as well. As it was, he had to grit his teeth to bear the constant massage as Arthur swallowed again. And again.

This would be the end of him. Then he remembered how Arthur had practically promised his virgin ass, and realized _that_ would likely be the end of him instead.

He pulled back before the color began to rise in Arthur’s cheeks to tell of his need for air. Arthur gulped for it when his cock came free.

“That’s not rough,” Arthur panted. “Or was all your talk just rubbish?”

Anger sparked through him for a second before he caught the playful glint in Arthur’s eye. “Oh, we’re just getting started.” Grasping Arthur’s head in both hands now, he lifted up to better the angle for both of them. “I’ve been looking forward to fucking your mouth again too long not to take what I want.”

Arthur grinned. The cheekiness of it spurred Percival to move, sliding back into the swelter of his mouth, pushing past the resistance at the back of his throat without waiting for him to adjust to the intrusion this time. His sac slapped with greater force, enough to sting, but the fresh arousal brought him back to the moment, the need to watch Arthur carefully in spite of his assertions to the contrary. He held still to the count of five, savoring the deep, wet passage to its fullest, then withdrew to set up a slow, even tempo.

In. Five beats. Out.

Tight. Amazingly bloody tight. Relief.

“I must not be the first to see what a good little cockslut you are.” Yielding to his desires for the dirty talk helped him refrain from letting it all go and savaging Arthur’s throat beyond their limits. “You’re too good at this. That takes practice.”

Though his mouth was stuffed, Arthur was far from quiet. He hummed in satisfaction on every stroke, maintaining as long as he could until his breath ran low. When Percival pulled out, the sucking noises he made on the shaft seemed to boom throughout the room, like Percival was the best meal he could have had ever had, like he couldn’t enough. His face got redder the longer they went, but he never looked away, never backed down, never gave an inch of regret. The closest he came was when his lashes would flutter for a moment, but Percival understood that reaction. It was that whirlwind sensation of _I didn’t know it could be this good_ sporadically beating out everything else.

Release came too soon. He knew it was approaching by the way his thighs trembled, but the sudden clench of his balls gave him only a second’s warning. He yanked back to Arthur’s frustrated cry, but in the next breath, let go of Arthur’s head to grip his cock and stroke it.

Just once. That was all it took. His fingers reached the crown as the first blast hit Arthur’s cheek, each subsequent shot not nearly as well-aimed as Percival’s eyes unfocused and his body wracked from the force of his orgasm.

He nearly came again when Arthur lapped at the nearest patch of skin he could reach.

His hand dropped, and he braced his fists on the pillow on either side of Arthur’s head as he stretched out on top of him. Ropes of come painted the sharp angles of Arthur’s face, and as he watched, Arthur licked at the drops that caught at the corner of his mouth.

Temptation was too great. He bent and licked across the same spot, touching Arthur’s tongue as it retreated. Nothing remained, but he dragged upward, along the steep slope of his cheek, gathering the fluid he found. When his tongue was coated, he returned to Arthur’s mouth, sealing their lips together, thrusting inside to give Arthur what he so clearly desired.

Arthur wrapped his arms around Percival and held tight. The embrace brought them more together than they’d yet been, bare skin to bare skin, thigh to thigh, chest to chest. His cock was sensitive, but Percival ground against Arthur anyway, reveling in the moans that rumbled from Arthur at the fresh friction. He didn’t stop. Not the slow rolls of his hips, not the long drags of his tongue through the sticky come. Each time he had enough, he brought it back to feed to Arthur, who sucked at it as greedily as he’d taken Percival’s cock.

Now that he’d come, the urge to shower Arthur with harsher language disappeared. He chose instead to concentrate on how good Arthur felt beneath him and the seduction of his sinful mouth. Their kisses lengthened, deeper and slower until Arthur was clean and the taste of his release fading in favor of the heat that was all them, but even that wasn’t enough to make Percival stop.

A hand molded over his back. At some point, he’d started perspiring. The fingers that tickled at the top of his crack were damp from sweat.

“Are you still up for getting fucked?” Arthur murmured against his mouth.

As lethargic as he felt, Percival chuckled. “I’m not sure I’ll be up again any time soon.”

Arthur slapped playfully at his ass. “Lucky for us, it doesn’t require you being hard.”

“Lucky for you, you mean.”

In response, Arthur tightened the embrace and surprised Percival by rolling to the side, reversing their positions. A lock of blond hair fell across his forehead as he smiled down, making him seem younger, more accessible, than he’d ever been before.

“I want to fuck you,” he said. “But I don’t mind waiting. I know it’ll be worth it.”

The thing of it was, Percival believed him. He could’ve pressed his advantage, taking Percival at his word that he’d bottom for him tonight, regardless of what might have occurred between them in the space between that declaration and right now. He didn’t have to ask at all, but instead just gone ahead and tapped Percival while he was still recovering from coming.

But that wasn’t the kind of man Arthur Pendragon was. No matter what Percival had assumed from the almost start, it had _never_ been the kind of man he was. This Arthur cared about his partners. He respected them. There was no kiss and tell that hurt innocent people.

He went still, eyes intent on Arthur’s. “You don’t have to wait.” And to prove it, he freed his legs from the tangle, bent his knees, and braced his feet on the duvet. “You’re not the only one who wants it.”


	11. Chapter 11

His jaw was sore, and his lips were a little numb, but Arthur couldn’t remember ever feeling more exhilarated than he did at that moment. Part of it was the way Percival looked right now. Sweat glistened on his brow, dampening the hair at his temples, and his mouth wasn’t held in that tight line anymore, maybe not smiling but certainly soft and relaxed. Supple. Arthur could still feel the brand of each come-flavored kiss.

But more than any of that was the look in Percival’s eyes. Arthur had seen him angry. He’d seen him scared. Wary, confused, aroused, all of these were familiar, but this was unlike anything else. Only word felt right to describe the warm glow.

Trust.

In Arthur? It had to be, but he wondered if maybe a little bit of it should have been directed back at Percival. He was the one who had made the ultimate decision, after all, because if he’d truly wanted to leave, Arthur wouldn’t—probably couldn’t—have stopped him. If he didn’t already—and Arthur suspected not, based on his earlier behaviors—he needed to believe in his own desires and his abilities to get them without penalty.

And now he lay there, open and welcoming to whatever Arthur desired. His spread legs afforded room to move, to get up and fetch the lube and condoms, but his hands still stroked up and down Arthur’s back, massaging at random knots, making it difficult to think of anything but staying and enjoying it as long as possible.

He bent for another kiss, almost smiling when Percival parted his lips before they even made contact. Another sign of growing trust. He needed to ensure that whatever door he’d managed to open in Percival stayed that way. He had no wish to return to their waiting game. The only road he wanted to take with Percival faced forward, not back.

“How do you want me?” Percival murmured.

Such a loaded question.

_In me._

_On me._

_With me. All night._

“On your back.” Better to answer the inquiry Percival had intended rather than any of the ones his imagination concocted in its stead. As hard as it was, he peeled away, sitting back on his heels to gaze down at the long, muscled body before him. He ran his knuckles along the length of inner thigh nearest him. Goosebumps erupted in his wake. “Damn. You’re so fucking responsive.”

Percival inhaled like he was going to say something, but after a moment, smiled and gave Arthur a half-shrug instead. He was already flushed and hot from his orgasm, so Arthur couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed by the compliment or not. He didn’t want to press and make him more self-conscious, either, even though he loved that shy blush. It just seemed so at odds with the take-charge lover Percival could be, the one he released only when he felt secure. Arthur was slowly coming to learn that both were integral parts of the man. A most fascinating combination.

Since Percival didn’t seem inclined to speak, Arthur gave up trying to engage him, choosing instead to caress the other leg in the same fashion. Matching gooseflesh stippled the skin, the coarse hairs standing up on end. Percival’s spent cock twitched where it rested on his belly, the line of come that pooled where it dripped smearing closer to his navel. Arthur licked his lips. The echoes of the taste still lingered on his tongue. He could easily bend down and take the rest of it, but in all honesty, he didn’t trust himself not to stay there once he started. 

What would it be like to feel Percival swell inside his mouth? He’d start out soft like he was now, but gradually, with Arthur’s slow sucking, he’d take over the space, until his only options were to slide out or further in.

Arthur’s chest went tight. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that scenario. At all. Which meant he better not indulge or he was never going to come.

“Not changing your mind, are you?”

The soft query pulled Arthur from his fantasies, and he grinned up at Percival with what he hoped was as mischievous a smile as he needed it to be. As much as he liked Percival, this was about having fun. He didn’t need to scare the man off because he was obsessing.

“Just cooling off a tad so it lasts longer than five seconds once I get inside you.” He slapped at Percival’s leg as he bounded off the bed. “Don’t move, or I’ll have to chase you down.”

Percival smiled. “You say these things like you actually stand a chance of doing it. It’s cute.”

“You’re not the only one who works out, you know.” The supplies he needed were in his top drawer. He tore off two condoms, just in case. “I just don’t show mine off like you do.”

“How do I show mine off?”

As Arthur climbed back onto the bed, Percival grabbed the back of his thighs and pulled his legs as close to his chest as possible, exposing his ass. The flesh pulled tight, muscles corded and tense, the puckered opening visibly clenching and unclenching.

Arthur completely lost his train of thought. Whatever answer he might have had ready for Percival’s last query was gone, lost in the haze that now inundated his thoughts, his awareness.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the taunting invitation Percival presented, imagining how it would feel around his cock, how amazing it would be if he wasn’t stuck wearing a condom when he slid into that tempting heat. Tossing the condoms and lube aside, he sprawled onto his stomach to better drag his tongue up the length of Percival’s crack.

Percival’s hole constricted as soon as Arthur passed over it. The sound of the other man’s moan filled the room.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

Arthur nuzzled against his balls. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

When he went over the second time, Percival opened for a second, allowing Arthur’s tongue to dip slightly inside before skimming downward again. 

He’d underestimated how good the man would taste. The salty musk clinging to Percival’s skin sparked more than his lust. His mouth salivated to get more, to drown himself in every drop, and he flashed on what it would have been like to eat Percival’s ass while still on his back. All it would have taken was Percival inching up a few more inches, or better yet, turning around so he could stretch that big body over Arthur’s. Something about being consumed by Percival drove him mad. When it came time to actually take his cock the way they both wanted, Arthur was making damn sure he was flat on the bed when it happened, with every inch possible bearing him down into the mattress.

His newfound needs fueled the sweeps of his tongue. Muscles trembled beneath his touch, and the rosy heat suffusing Percival’s flesh bled through Arthur’s skin, whether it grazed over the surface or not. It got harder and harder to ignore the seductive opening, the way it relaxed and practically begged him to stop and explore, to delve deep and take a hint of what it would be like around his cock.

So he gave up on pretending this wasn’t what they both desired. Grasping each firm buttock, Arthur spread them even wider, stretching the hole with the strength of Percival’s own perfect body. “Someone’s as hungry as I was,” he commented.

“Oh, yeah.” Percival surprised him by letting go of one of his legs and catching the back of Arthur’s head. “So get in there and fuck me with your tongue before I lose it completely.”

An unforeseen thrill rippled through Arthur. Percival was taking command even from his more submissive position. Demanding satisfaction for what he craved. Arthur hadn’t expected that to come quite so easily. Each step was another building block cementing them together, but they were still just steps, sometimes small as Percival adjusted to the change. But trusting Arthur enough to release his inhibitions about taking charge seemed to support more than the initial blowjob. He’d allowed it to encompass the entire night, however long that might last. That was an achievement, one Arthur fully intended to savor, because being desired so completely, by someone as powerful as Percival, was the most intoxicating feeling he could ever remember.

He licked one final time over the muscle, then pointed his tongue and buried it inside. His teeth scraped across the hard flesh, but he didn’t fear having gone too far. Percival ground against his face, matching Arthur’s shallow strokes with small undulations of his hips. He might have complained at Romp that he couldn’t dance, but here, he had a very definite rhythm, one Arthur could match and respond to without even having to think about it. A growl escaped him as he dove in even deeper, and the hand holding the back of his head tightened to almost painful proportions.

It was hard to breathe, but he didn’t want to move. His nose was smashed into Percival’s balls, the loose skin pillowing the force while at the same time forbidding any fresh air to get to him. He could probably gulp for breath if he pulled his mouth away, but he wasn’t ready to give up the way the quivering muscles clung to his tongue every time he withdrew, or the way they clamped down around him when he went back inside. Each second he remained there, with his face buried in Percival’s ass, was another second his body felt lighter, the pressure against the inside of his skin ratcheting higher and higher. His lungs burned. The fingers keeping Percival’s cheeks wide open started to tremble. He felt like he was flying, like someone had shot him straight up into the air and he was still gaining altitude while gravity fought to drag him back down.

“Arthur…Arthur…”

Fingers tugged at his hair, dragging him away though he wasn’t sure he was ready to give it up just yet. Panting, he gazed up the length of Percival’s body, catching first on the sweet, small smile, then meeting desire-dark eyes that made his balls ache.

Fuck. _Every_ part of him ached for this man. But as quickly as that realization popped its head up, he shuttled it to the side. He’d think about that later.

“I don’t usually take requests,” he said with a grin. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

“It’s not anything you don’t want, too.” His grip loosened, his hand caressing now rather than pushing or pulling. “Suit up, Pendragon. Let’s go for a ride.”

The mild challenge in his words was exactly what Arthur needed to hear. He reached for the lube first, squirting some onto his fingers to work into Percival’s hole. It gave him time to let the desire ebb to a more manageable level. For all his talk, he’d prefer if it lasted long enough to make an impression on the man. 

Percival took the penetration in silence, only the occasional hiss of air through his teeth evidence that it wasn’t as simple as _slick, stretch, go_ for him. His gaze remained intent on Arthur, though it did drift once or twice downward to where Arthur’s cock bobbed against his stomach. When he licked his lips, Arthur’s tempo stuttered, tripped by the distraction of using Percival’s spit as lube instead.

That kind of beguilement was becoming too common with Percival. Another detail Arthur set aside to consider at a different date.

At three fingers, he couldn’t wait any longer. He rolled the condom down his length and edged forward until he could rest the covered tip at Percival’s entrance. A single nudge closed it off, and he glanced up to see Percival grit his teeth together.

“Sorry,” Percival said. “It’s been a while.”

“You need more time?” _Please say no._

Percival shook his head. “I just…” 

His gaze slid sideways as his voice trailed off. Arthur held still as he waited, but the proximity of the tight heat he wanted was killing him.

Percival reached for him again. Because Arthur was on his knees, he had to curl upward to clasp his upper arm, his firm hold preventing Arthur to protest when he tugged him forward. Arthur half-flopped onto Percival’s chest, but his question about what Percival might need was answered by the seal of another shattering kiss.

He’d lost his positioning, but gained strong arms around his back, the thrust of a hungry tongue past his lips, the rub of Percival’s returning erection alongside his shaft. Arthur shifted until he was more comfortable, all without losing the kiss, and felt Percival pull his legs back at a sharper angle, tilting his ass upward to create an easier entry for them.

“Now,” Percival murmured against his mouth. “Do it now.”

A swift grip at the base of his cock, a slight rise of his hips, and there was Percival’s hole again, more yielding than before, inviting him in instead of blocking him out. Arthur pushed against the resistance, taking his time though he no longer had the fortitude to retreat. He kept going, swallowing Percival’s moan when he breached the first barrier, shuddering with every inch he sheathed. Muscles squeezed around him, around his cock. The sweat that had filmed Percival’s glorious chest now glued them together. It couldn’t get much better than this.

Except it did. The second he felt his balls come to rest against pliant flesh. When he bottomed out, Arthur sucked in a hard breath, made even sharper when Percival locked him inside.

“Fuck, but you feel good.” An understatement, but the best he could manage.

Percival responded by coiling his long legs around Arthur’s hips. For a moment, Arthur thought he was going to flip their positions, but all he did was clench one more time and then relax his inner muscles.

Arthur’s cue. Taking a deep breath, he began the inexorable slide out, making it farther than he would have thought before needing to drive himself forward again. Percival grunted with the full penetration, but held on, his head dropping back to the pillow to watch Arthur as he moved. The distraction he’d needed before no longer seemed necessary. He took each stroke with a small exhalation, warm air puffing across Arthur’s cheek, and his hands roamed up and down Arthur’s back, only stopping when Arthur thrust harder or sped up his pace. 

It might have taken them some drama to get to this point, but damned if it wasn’t worth it. Percival held back in his public persona, but the man writhing beneath him wasn’t closed off. He returned every kiss, opened to every touch, matched each slam of their hips to keep the tempo even, the pleasure mutual. Sometimes, Arthur had to add extra force to beat the tightness of the man’s ass, but even those weren’t rebuffed. Percival just grunted and took it. Arthur would swear an added gleam appeared in his eyes every time he did.

He only spoke once.

“See how much I love this?” Percival hooked an arm around the back of Arthur’s neck and yanked him down so their mouths were level. He clenched at the same time, stealing Arthur’s breath with the added tightness. “Just wait until it’s your turn.”

That was all it took.

Images too fast to block out flooded through his head. Percival’s moans became his own. The sweat sticking to his skin wasn’t secondhand but generated by the strength of Percival’s cock pistoning into Arthur’s body. It would be his prick trapped against his stomach, his hole savaged.

With a final drive forward, Arthur erupted. The world went black at the edges, seared away by the heat exploding from his skin. He shot once, twice, three and four and five times before it even considered abating, and even then, kept going. Percival clamped down on him as his cock jerked against the hot walls, milking even more out than he would’ve thought possible. Of course, he couldn’t think at all anyway, not with the near violent quaking of his body as he came.

He collapsed onto Percival, heedless of how heavy he might be. His lungs refused to work. Sweat stung where it dripped into his eyes, so he squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in the crook of Percival’s neck. The fresh male aroma of his lover’s skin—and fuck if he was going to call Percival anything else, not after the most amazing sex of his adult life—soothed away the worst of the tremors he couldn’t control.

So did Percival’s arms.

“That was…” He licked at a particularly enticing spot on Percival’s neck. “…completely worth all the grief you’ve given me since we met.”

“I’ve given _you_ grief?” Percival sounded more amused than anything else. Arthur didn’t have the strength to lift his head and check. “You’re the one who’s made such a nuisance of himself.”

“Your fault.”

“How do you see that?”

“You let me at your cock. I didn’t stand a chance after that.”

A chuckle vibrated through Percival’s chest. “Right. Because big, bad Arthur Pendragon hasn’t had some of the prettiest pricks in the country.”

“All the more to compare yours to and realize what a treat I’d found.” His eyes drifted shut. His body was melting into Percival’s. “I’m a cockslut, remember?”

He meant to tease, but it brought no response, just a kiss across the top of his head and a tightening of Percival’s arms. More would’ve been pointless anyway. Arthur was already half asleep. Satisfied. Sated. Content.


	12. Chapter 12

_“Where are you going?”_

_Sleepy Arthur was surprisingly adorable. An hour of rest gave him the best case of bedhead, and he was already losing the battle keeping his eyes open, his blinking as he tried to focus on Percival slow and heavy._

_Percival smiled at him as he tucked in his shirt. “It’s late, and Merlin and I have an early morning. Go back to sleep.”_

_“You can spend the night, you know.”_

_“I know. Maybe another time.”_

_Arthur flopped back onto his pillow and gave up the fight. “No maybe. Definitely.”_

_“Good night, Arthur.”_

_“Night.”_

Percival knew it was more than a little silly to keep replaying the exchange in his head, but he couldn’t help it. For as terrified as he’d been about sleeping with Arthur, the night couldn’t have gone better if he’d planned every detail out ahead of time. The company had been great, the sex had been fantastic, and Arthur seemed determined to repeat the experience as soon as possible. 

Getting out of the warm bed to return home had been harder than it should’ve been, but Percival had done it anyway, the reasons to leave outweighing those to stay. He really did have a meeting with Merlin in the morning to dissect the gallery job, and honestly, it was never a good idea to sleep over on a first, or even second, date. That screamed _needy_ or _obsessive_ , and if Percival wanted this to work out, he knew they had to do it right.

Even if he was just a little bit besotted with the man.

He smiled again as he slid his key into his flat door. He wanted this thing with him and Arthur to work out. He really did. In spite of all the arguments on why this was a bad idea, he was hungry to give it a try anyway.

Would wonders never cease.

His high spirits lasted all the way until he closed the door behind him and saw Merlin stretched out on the couch, fast asleep. Though Merlin had a key, he rarely used it, only doing so when he had a personal emergency. Percival could count on one hand how many times that had happened. Another problem with Gwaine? Then why hadn’t he called? They’d turned the ringers off on their phones, but Percival had checked for missed calls after he’d left Arthur’s flat. There’d been none.

Anything more dire than that would _definitely_ have merited ringing Percival instead of waiting around for him to come home.

Which meant he’d been waiting around for entirely different purposes. Like grilling Percival about what had happened with Arthur.

Shaking his head, Percival walked noiselessly around the couch and went into his room to change for bed. He’d bitch at Merlin in the morning about playing mother hen. It wasn’t like Percival staked out _his_ flat after he had a first date with a guy. Whatever he thought Percival might spill could’ve waited until morning, though frankly, Percival doubted if he would offer many details regardless of when the interrogation came. He felt the need to safeguard this relationship as much as he could. It already had enough cons weighing it down. He didn’t want to add overexposure to the list.

He was pulling a T-shirt over his head when the door opened and Merlin peeked inside. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight.”

“If you’d slept at your place instead of mine, you wouldn’t have.” Grabbing his clothes, he hung them up on the hanger he’d use to take them to the dry cleaners in the morning. “Any particular reason you’ve taken a fancy to my couch?”

Merlin came in the rest of the way, flopping down on the bed. “What better reason is there than blond and buff?”

“He’s not here.”

“I can see that. Why are you?”

He cut him a sharp look. “Because I’m not eighteen and this was only a first date.”

“So it _was_ a date?”

“You know it was, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“And?”

“And now I’m home.”

When he tried to push Merlin’s legs out of his way, Merlin kicked at his hands. “You wouldn’t have even met him if it wasn’t for me. The least you can do is dish a little.”

“Merlin—”

“Perc, you were _humming_ when you walked in. And I’m your best friend. I want to share in whatever’s got you so happy.”

He didn’t remember humming, but considering how distracted his thoughts had been, it was entirely possible. Merlin was earnest, too. After putting up with Percival’s attitude for so many years, he deserved to know at least a little of it.

“We went back to his flat.”

“And? Is he as hot as he looks?”

Stretching out next to Merlin, Percival bit back a smile. “Hotter.”

With a delighted laugh, Merlin slapped Percival’s thigh. “Good for you. It’s about time you met someone.”

“Yeah.” He stared up at the ceiling. Arthur’s was a very pale, creamy brown. It probably had a fancy name for what shade it was. “He invited me to stay.”

“Didn’t want to push your luck?“

“Something like that.”

Now that Percival had granted his permission to discuss Arthur somewhat openly, Merlin seemed content to just lay there next to him. A couple minutes passed before he ventured to continue.

“You’re going to see him again, right?”

“Yes.” That afternoon, he would have hesitated to give such a definite answer. Funny how things could change so swiftly. “I don’t know when, though.”

“You should do it someplace public. Take the pressure off you.”

He snorted. “Public’s exactly where I do feel the pressure.”

“You know what I mean. We should go back to Romp.”

“Oh, fuck no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t relax there.”

“But you won’t be there trying to impress anyone. You’ll have Arthur.”

“You think one date is enough for me to think I can just let go with him?”

“Did you let go with him tonight?”

He clamped his mouth shut. Merlin was too smart for his own good sometimes.

“A night at Romp will just be about the two of you getting more comfortable with each other. Without you having to worry about conversation.” He nudged Percival’s arm. “You hate that.”

He hated dancing even more, but he could see Merlin’s point when he put it like that. “Does it have to be Romp? Couldn’t we find a concert instead? Or a game. Football would be good. He likes that.”

“Those are good ideas, but then you have to coordinate your schedules to try and find something that fits in, and then there has to be tickets available—”

“He’s Arthur Pendragon. I think he could get dinner with the Queen if that’s what he wanted.”

“I just mean, a club’s more spontaneous. Pick a night that you’re both free, show up, have fun. And let’s face it, a little spontaneity might be healthy for you.”

His protestations were there, ready to be unleashed. But then he remembered agreeing to Arthur’s private dance, and blurting out an invitation for a single drink. Two separate incidents where he’d stopping thinking for a second and acted on impulse, and look where it had got him?

Merlin took his silence for the agreement it was. “We could always double.”

His tone was too casual, especially in light of recent events. “Did Gwaine call you tonight?”

“No. I was…debating ringing him, actually.”

And going to Romp would keep it purely physical. Merlin could indulge the sexual attraction without pursuing anything deeper, which, in the aftermath of Lance, might be better. More time to heal emotionally, more time to meet someone better suited.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll talk to Arthur.” 

He wouldn’t ask questions about why Merlin might have changed his mind. He truly believed it wasn’t his business unless Merlin asked for his input. But he’d still be the first to pull Gwaine’s spinal column out through his ass if he hurt Merlin in any way. Consequences be damned.

Merlin rolled onto his stomach, curling his arms around the pillow to burrow in for the night. Percival didn’t argue. With their discussion settled, the company was welcome. 

“I’m glad things are working out with Arthur,” Merlin said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Percival closed his eyes. Arthur was immediately there, smiling, blue eyes slumberous. “Me, too.”

“Did you two talk tonight?”

“Some.”

“Does he know?”

A perfectly legitimate question. Percival ignored the tightening in his gut in favor of remembering the sticky rasp of licking his come off Arthur’s jaw. “No.”

The pat to his shoulder might’ve been reassurance, understanding, or something else entirely, but he wasn’t opening his eyes to find out. At least Merlin didn’t speak anymore.

It was easier to hold onto the memories of the night that way.

* * *

His phone cut in during his football scores, jarring Arthur from his reverie as he drove along the motorway to glance at the dash. Gwaine. He pushed the button to answer. “A little early for you, isn’t it? It’s not even one yet.”

“Where are you? I’m peckish.”

Countryside whipped by him. “Not in the city, actually.”

“Well, why not? I want to get some lunch.”

“Father decided this morning I needed to go meet with that architect in Devon he’s trying to woo.” 

“Devon? You’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

“And you’re in your _car_? Are you mad? That’s a four hour drive. If you’re very, very lucky.”

“Our meeting’s for dinner, and Father’s been on me about attending that awful Dodson auction tomorrow so I thought if I used this as an excuse, I could get out of it.”

“And? Did that logic actually work on him?”

Arthur sighed. “Not entirely. We’re still at loggerheads about it.” 

“Well, fuck, now what am I going to do?”

“You hardly need me there to spoonfeed you. And don’t tell me you can’t find a restaurant you like. You know every decent one in the city.”

“Only to avoid them so I can frequent the indecent ones instead, my good friend.”

He chuckled. “Point taken.”

“But seriously, I was hoping I’d have you here to bounce ideas off.”

“About what?”

“Merlin.”

Arthur had done a surprisingly good job so far not dwelling on the time spent with Percival last night. Daydreaming about it had led to Uther springing the Devon trip on him before he could head that one off at the pass, and reliving what it had felt like being surrounded by Percival’s long, large body did not necessarily make for comfortable driving on the M4. He hadn’t been entirely successful—when he’d stopped for petrol, he’d locked himself in the bathroom and given his cock a good wank in hopes coming would help…which it hadn’t—but having Gwaine bring up Merlin brought all the memories rushing back.

“I thought he was done with you,” he said, hoping the focus on Gwaine’s sorry lovelife was ample fodder to keep his mind off Percival.

“He should be. He’s smart enough to know better.” But underneath Gwaine’s playful tone was something new, a soft ache that rarely reared its head. Arthur zeroed in on it, unconsciously gripping the wheel tighter. This wasn’t just Gwaine being impulsive. Deeper roots were at play here. “I just wondered…well, maybe I can fix this.”

“Do you _want_ to fix it?” He posed the question as carefully as possible, fearful of sending this version of his friend back into the cave in which it usually resided.

“I should.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“I acted like a prat.”

“You did.”

“Merlin deserves better than that.”

Gwaine’s use of present tense didn’t escape unnoticed. It was almost as telling as his avoidance in answering Arthur’s inquiry.

“We don’t have to be sitting at lunch together for you to bounce your thoughts off me,” Arthur said. “Just do it now.”

“Except lunch solved the issue of my grumbling stomach, too.”

“Which is more important to you?”

A long silence filled the car. Arthur had to glance at the dash to make sure they were still connected.

“Merlin’s different than most of the blokes I hook up with,” Gwaine finally said. “He kept asking all these questions.”

The urge to tease Gwaine was right there, the words on the tip of his tongue, but yielding to them would close this door between them, one that rarely had the opportunity to be swung wide. Arthur swallowed down his initial response and instead agreed, ending with, “He’s more serious than your usual pick-up.”

“He just came off a bad break-up, too. Which is probably more reason for me to stay away.”

“Why’s that?”

“When was the last time you saw me stick with the same guy for more than two dates?” Gwaine scoffed.

“When was the last time you called me up to ask me how to make amends with a guy so you _could_ go out with him more than twice?” Arthur countered.

“Touché.” He chuckled. “We can really pick them, can’t we?”

“Speak for yourself.”

A sharp intake of breath. He shouldn’t have been so flip. “Wait a sec, are you telling me you got Percival to agree to a date?”

Arthur almost answered, but checked himself in time. “This isn’t about me, remember. It’s about you and Merlin.”

“But now I want to hear about tall, hung, and handsome.”

“Not before we get you settled.”

Gwaine sighed. “You take all the fun out of it.”

“Have you tried ringing him yet?”

“And we’re back.” Another sigh. “The answer is no. Believe it or not, I’m trying to be smart about this and not scare him off more than I already have. Why? Do you think I should?”

“Honestly? I have no clue. I think you bungled it good when Percival came home the other night.”

“Hey! I thought you were on my side.”

“I am, but…you said it yourself. Merlin’s not like the others. Your usual methods won’t work on him.”

“I know that. Do you know how bloody smart he is? He and Percival started that security business with nothing, and now? They have one of the best growing reputations in the city.”

Arthur frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Because I did some homework. Didn’t you?”

No, he hadn’t. He’d been more focused on breaking through Percival’s defenses than digging around in his professional business. Gwaine’s revelation didn’t surprise him, though, not knowing what he did now about the pair or seeing them in action at the gallery.

“Maybe I should hire him,” Gwaine was saying. “My body could use some guarding, don’t you think?”

“Gwaine—”

“He’d have to talk to me if I was paying him, right?”

“Something tells me he’ll see that as another game.” And neither Percival nor Merlin were the types to play that way. “Just be direct with him. Ring him up. Ask him out on a real date.”

“He’ll say no.”

“You don’t know that.”

“ _I’d_ say no if I were him.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re not asking yourself out, now isn’t it?”

“So that’s your grand advice? Ask him out on a date?”

“You missed the real part. What does he like to do?”

“Kiss me.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Shaking his head, Arthur pulled into the slower left lane to get ready for his exit ahead. “The only way you’re going to prove to him you’re not mucking about is if you treat him like an equal. You completely ignored everything he had to say the other night, remember? You treated him like he was an idiot.”

“Thank you so much for reminding me. I’d forgotten for all of thirty seconds there.”

“My point is, you want this to be different, you have to start acting like it is. Go somewhere you can’t touch each other. Somewhere you have to actually talk to him.”

“That’s a girl’s advice. Whatever happened to two guys who fancy each other just having a good laugh together? With kissing, of course.”

“Except it doesn’t sound like that’s what you want.”

A low rumble emanated through the speakers. Arthur grinned when he realized Gwaine had just growled at him.

“You know I’m right,” Arthur continued.

“I know nothing of the kind.” He paused. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“Now about this Percival—”

He laughed. “I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait, just tell me one thing. Is he really as hung as I think he is?”

“Goodbye, Gwaine.”

He disconnected to muted protestations, turning the radio off before the broadcast could return. As he made his way toward town center, his thoughts drifted back to that first night with Percival, when Merlin and Gwaine had seemed like magic on the dance floor. It should’ve been easy for them, two gregarious personalities, an obvious attraction. By all rights, they should be the ones dating now instead. If only Gwaine’s self-destructive tendencies hadn’t got in his own way. As much as he wished otherwise, Arthur had no idea how to curb them. If he had, he would’ve done it years ago. He could only hope Merlin found a way to help before they both got seriously hurt.

Pulling into the first carpark he found, he eased into a spot and reached for his phone. All his thinking about Percival had reached its breaking point. His fingers flew across the screen to type in the text.

_What’re you doing this wknd?_

He’d thought he might have to wait for a response, but it came back almost right away.

_Are you psychic?_

_No, why?_

_Was just thinking about when could call to ask you._

His stomach flipped. That was huge. 

_What did you have in mind?_

_Romp?_

Now, he paused. Percival wanted to go back to the club? That didn’t sound like him at all.

_You sure?_

_I owe you a real dance._

His cock swelled. _Then you’re on._

_Mind if we double?_

_With…?_

_Merlin asked about Gwaine._

As glad as he was to hear that, he wasn’t sure what that meant for Gwaine. A date at Romp wouldn’t be enough to break him out of his cycle, and if he really wanted this thing with Merlin to last longer than five minutes, he needed to treat it differently.

His phone pinged with another message.

_Don’t tell Gwaine I told you that._

_Of course not. But don’t know about his schedule._

_Doesn’t Saturday=night out for him?_

_Usually. Does Merlin know you’re doing this?_

_Yes._

There wasn’t much Arthur could do to argue then. How Gwaine handled it would be up to him. He was a grown man, and this was his life to sort out, not Arthur’s.

_I’ll do what I can._

_Thank you._

_No prob._

He paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Would it be too much to add how much he wished Percival had spent the night? He understood why he’d left. He couldn’t even argue with the logic. But Arthur had missed the heat of him when he’d woken up that morning. As he’d put together his breakfast, he wondered what Percival’s ritual was, whether he liked a hot breakfast or a cold one, if he preferred coffee or tea. One of these days, Arthur would find out.

Just as he decided it was better to leave it as is, not to press Percival more than he already had, another text came through.

_Hope you slept OK. Missed you. See you Saturday._

He smiled.

Maybe Percival was the one who was psychic.


	13. Chapter 13

Saturday was too far away. The meeting with the architect blurred by, but when Uther called him at nearly midnight to congratulate him on charming the pants off the man—even going so far as to say he hoped Arthur hadn’t done that literally, the bastard—Arthur figured he’d done well enough in spite of his distraction.

All Percival’s fault, of course. Because with the promise of another date on the horizon, even if it might be a double one, he was all Arthur could think about.

Sleeping didn’t help. He woke with a hard-on that a wank in the shower did little to ease. It even came back when he was sitting at breakfast because a man walked by his table wearing the same scent Percival did. He lingered over his tea in hopes it would either go away or the dining room would clear enough for him to escape without anybody noticing, but the best he could manage was making a dash for it when the hostess was busy seating other guests.

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that did him in. His dreams had been filled with the low rumble of Percival’s voice. The details were foggy, but the sensations that rattled through his body when he sought them out anything but. The hair stood up on the back of his neck in anticipation of hot breath fanning over it, Percival’s long body weighing him down as he nudged Arthur’s knees apart. He really wanted to ring Percival and simply talk to the man, but he feared that in the aftermath of his fantasies, he’d only make the drive home worse by teasing himself with something he couldn’t yet have.

Soon, though. If not soon enough.

He tried calling Gwaine, but went straight to voicemail. A check-in with his secretary provided nothing for his attention except a reminder from his father about the auction that evening. Blasting his music drove his thoughts to Romp, but leaving the car in silence was just as bad since it gave him nothing to do but think of Percival.

He pulled into the services at Gordano simply as something to do that wasn’t sitting in his car. He didn’t really need petrol but filled up anyway, then went inside to wander around, first at WHSmith’s, then in Waitrose, picking up a water and a ploughman’s in lieu of stopping later for lunch.

All of it only took twenty minutes. Damn it.

His foot was heavy on the accelerator when he got back on the motorway. The sooner he got back to the office, the sooner he could bury himself in work. Even the auction would be a welcome reprieve from his runaway thoughts at this point.

It was a very long trip, anyway.

Thirty minutes from his exit, his phone rang. His heart leapt into his throat until he saw the caller information and realized it wasn’t Percival.

_Stop acting like a lovesick girl._

“Long time no hear,” he said as upbeat as he could manage considering the man on the other end of the line was not who he wanted it to be. “How are you, Elyan?”

“Bored and horny. What’re you doing tonight, mate?”

For a moment, he actually considered it. He’d known Elyan since before uni, introduced by Gwaine unsurprisingly. Elyan had an even worse knack for getting into trouble than Gwaine did, mostly because he had a temper where Gwaine just did it for the fun. But one thing had always been different with Elyan—the fact that his main interest in Arthur was his cock. He only called these days when he wanted to get laid. Because the boy was a voracious bottom, Arthur had never turned him down.

Until now.

It would satisfy his arousal, of that he was sure. Elyan wouldn’t leave him be until he couldn’t get it up anymore, and he’d pass out tonight with a sore dick and smelling like come. And he was tempted. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t.

But Elyan wasn’t Percival. The needs running rampant inside his skin were about more than getting off. Fucking Elyan wouldn’t address the desire to see Percival, or talk to him, or hear how his day had gone. It sure as hell wouldn’t satisfy his craving for the other man’s cock, either. So even taking the offer on the purely physical level it was intended failed to meet his demands.

So he lied. Sort of. Elyan wouldn’t understand his _no_. Knowing him, he might even take it as a challenge.

“Father’s got this auction I’m stuck attending,” he said. “And I’m still on the M4 trying to get back to the city to make it in time so he doesn’t ream me another one.”

“You can’t sneak out of it?”

A reasonable request. He’d certainly done so often enough in the past. “Not this time. Sorry about that.”

Elyan sighed. “Damn. I was really hoping to catch you.”

“I’m sure you can find someone else.”

“Yeah, maybe.” 

He sounded so dejected, Arthur actually felt guilty for a moment. One night together wouldn’t harm anyone, would it? His mouth opened to change his answer, but then his gaze fell on his phone, and he remembered his delight in seeing the offer of a date come through from Percival. And how thrilled he’d been at the prospect of where their relationship was going. The last thing he wanted was to ruin it.

“Sure I can’t change your mind?” Elyan tried, one last time.

“I’m sure.” Then, because he owed it to Percival if not Elyan… “I’m kind of seeing someone. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Seriously? Good for you, mate. It’s about time.” He paused. “It’s not Gwaine, is it? Because he’ll get distracted by the first pretty ass he spots.”

Arthur laughed. “No, not Gwaine. I’d like to think I’d know a little bit better than that by now.”

A few more niceties, a promise to get together soon—one they both knew probably wouldn’t happen since Elyan was almost as slippery as Gwaine was—and Arthur was that much closer to London with a smile on his face.

Giving up easy sex for a guy was new. Momentous, almost. On a whim, he dialed his secretary’s number.

“I need you to do two things for me.”

“Is this in regards to the auction tonight?”

“No, personal. But I’ll be indebted to you, especially if you can keep my father from finding out.” He wasn’t ready to spring Uther on Percival yet. He wasn’t sure Percival would ever be ready for that. The man didn’t need more reasons to run scared.

“It’ll be our little secret. What do you need?”

“First, I want to know what you can find out about a security firm.” Gwaine had hinted at the research he’d done on Merlin. It made sense for Arthur to know as much about Percival, too. 

He waited as she made a note of the details. “And number two?”

“I need you to make arrangements with a gallery for a private purchase…”


	14. Chapter 14

Percival felt ridiculous.

It was just a date. At a club. With someone he’d already gone out with who clearly thought he was worth a second date.

So why was half his wardrobe strewn across his bed, discarded as _too boring_ or _too loose_ or _too easy_? Why did he feel like he would throw up if he dared to consume anything?

Because it was a date with Arthur. At Romp.

And Arthur wasn’t the only one who thought it was worth another go-around.

It might not have been so bad if he’d had Merlin to lean on, but Gwaine had surprised both of them with a call that morning, asking Merlin to accompany him to a martial arts exhibition and then dinner. Merlin had made him wait, then rang Percival to get his opinion.

“Did you tell him about the exhibition?” Percival couldn’t figure out how Gwaine had discovered Merlin’s interest in martial arts.

“No, I didn’t even know it was on. He said he’d remembered me talking about my belts and thought I’d enjoy it.”

Which meant Merlin had told Gwaine, when he so rarely told anyone, especially one-night stands. That told Percival all he needed to know.

“He’s making an effort.” Was that Arthur’s influence? Or was Gwaine that serious about Merlin? “Do you want to go?”

“God, yes.”

“Then go.”

“I don’t want to bail on you. Romp was my idea.”

“I’m a big boy. I think I can handle one date on my own.”

So Merlin had decided to accept, and now Percival was left wishing Gwaine had chosen next week to start getting his act together.

After too much deliberation, he opted for a dark brown vest and jeans, a variation on what he’d worn when they’d met. He didn’t need to show off to pull anyone, but Arthur clearly appreciated the muscles, and tonight was all about driving him insane with lust. Percival wanted him so worked up, he’d be begging for Percival’s cock. Focus on the physical, Merlin had said. Keep it casual and easy to take the pressure off his nerves.

He stared at his reflection and the mess behind him. Yeah, this was _really_ taking the pressure off.

Five minutes before their agreed-upon time, his phone rang.

“I’m early, I know,” Arthur said. “Everyone must be out of the city tonight.”

Percival scooped up his wallet and keys. “You downstairs?”

“Ready and waiting.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He took the stairs to work off some of his skittish energy and found Arthur waiting at the curb, slightly obstructing the road, ignoring the occasional blare of a passing car’s horn. He darted around the front and slid into the passenger seat as quickly as possible.

As Arthur eased back into traffic, his gaze kept sliding over to Percival. “You’re sure about this?”

Percival stiffened. “Yes. Unless you’re changing your mind.”

“No, no, the club’s fine.” The corner of his mouth curled upward. “You just look good enough to forget dancing and go straight back to my place.”

So did Arthur. His clothes followed the same trend Percival’s did. Same jeans he’d worn the first time, with a tight red T-shirt instead of a blue one. It brought a faint hint of color to his cheeks, like he’d already been caught up in the swirl of music and his heart thrummed to the driving beat, and molded over his chest, revealing the hard peaks of nipples already aroused.

He almost said yes. They both knew that was where they’d end up anyway. It was what both of them wanted. But a small, possessive voice at the back of Percival’s thoughts reminded him of what it would feel like to walk into a place like Romp with Arthur at his side. The entire room would be jealous because Arthur was his, not theirs.

_Stop. Don’t make it sound permanent. He’s only yours for the night._

But that was enough.

“The club.”

His determination must have been evident. Arthur’s smile widened as he nodded in agreement. “The club.”

Conversation was light on the way to Romp, brief polite questions about the rest of their week, about the surprisingly cool night, even about recent football scores. His curiosity about Gwaine tempted him to bring it up, but he refrained, unwilling to distract Arthur from the hours to come ahead of them. It wasn’t his business, not as long as Gwaine didn’t fuck Merlin over. And the fact that Arthur didn’t bring up the expected double date spoke volumes, too.

The queue of people waiting to enter wrapped around the corner. Percival watched it with a frown as they drove by.

“Are we even going to get in tonight?”

“We’ll get in.”

Arthur’s nonchalance continued after they’d parked. For a moment, Percival thought about catching Arthur’s hand. Sweaty fingers knotted together. That sense of ownership. But Arthur caught his keys against his palm as he came around the car and the opportunity passed.

Percival’s pace slowed when they approached the end of the queue. With a flash of his impudent grin, Arthur shoved his keys into his pocket and grabbed Percival’s hand, just like he’d considered only minutes earlier. He didn’t stop, pulling Percival past the waiting men and toward the front door. More than a few heads turned to watch them. Some were annoyed. Some were curious. Most were hungry.

Percival didn’t blame them. He was ready to eat Arthur up, too.

The same bouncer was at the door that had been there the previous week. At the impervious stare he leveled at Arthur, Percival was ready to turn around and take their rightful place at the back.

“Busy night,” Arthur commented.

The bouncer didn’t blink. “Too busy for scrapping.”

“Which is why I made sure Gwaine is far, far away.” 

Even though he was watching closely, Percival barely caught a glimpse of the roll of notes Arthur pressed into the bouncer’s hand.

“Then you can actually have fun tonight.” The bouncer stepped aside to open the door. “Enjoy.”

Arthur led him inside, his grip still solid. They navigated through the bodies packed into the hall and shouldered their way past those lingering near the bar. Not a table was free. Even the bar was two deep at places. Arthur paused on the outskirts of the dance floor, his gaze sweeping over the throng.

“So do we just dive in?” His thumb stroked the side of Percival’s hand. The touch of cool metal surprised him, and he glanced down to see the thick ring Arthur wore. Had he worn that the first time? He was fairly sure not. He would’ve remembered the sensation of the metal against his cock when Arthur pumped him. “Or do you need some liquid courage first?”

A drink would only stall the inevitable. “Dance.”

He was moving before the word was out, taking the lead this time before his nerve failed. Elbows knocked into them, and though he bowed out of the way of other bodies, the crowd was too dense for an easy path. He gave up near the edge, releasing Arthur’s hand to face him.

No matter how many times he told himself he wanted this, his stomach still threatened to rebel. 

The suffocating heat already had beads of sweat on Arthur’s brow, and the eyes he lifted to Percival’s glittered with expectation. He was nodding to the pounding bass line, but he waited for Percival to move first, giving him that power without hesitation.

The butterflies settled down to a low flutter. Slowly, Percival reached forward.

His fingers curled around the back of Arthur’s neck. Others held onto hips, guiding their partner’s movements. From the look on Arthur’s face, that was what he’d expected, too. But Percival wasn’t nearly rhythmic enough to dictate their dancing. And he didn’t want to stifle Arthur’s athletic grace. He wanted to feel it. 

Claim it.

A slow, seductive smile curved Arthur’s full lips. Keeping time with the music, he edged closer, allowing Percival to ease some of the stretch in his arm, but maintained enough distance to move without otherwise touching. The only contact he instigated was the hook of his finger in one of Percival’s belt loops. Inches away from Percival’s hard-on. Temptation incarnate.

Arthur wanted to play.

Percival matched his smile.

It wasn’t so much dancing as it was gyrating to the beat. He didn’t bother mimicking what the others were doing. He’d look silly trying. But watching Arthur, following the sensual rolls of his hips, that he could do. It wasn’t like dancing. It was more primitive than that. A knowing of a lover’s flesh, coming together in ways no other pairs could. They’d found that tempo the first time, as simple as breathing.

Some people called it chemistry. Percival had always believed it a myth.

Now, he wasn’t so sure. Because he didn’t have another name for this…connection he and Arthur had. He didn’t know what else to call this pull that kept them coming together. He couldn’t explain how he could predict each tilt of Arthur’s hips, every flex of his fingers.

A trickle of sweat rolled down the side of Arthur’s neck, drawing his gaze, hypnotizing him with its proximity. Without breaking their rhythm, he tugged gently and guided Arthur nearer, bending his head as soon as possible. He dragged his lips along Arthur’s jaw, gathering the salty moisture, then chased the rest of it where it had soaked into the T-shirt. His mouth sealed over the patch, half full of skin, half full of cotton. The important part was the racing pulse that throbbed against his tongue. It set pace with the pound of his own.

Arthur tilted his head to the side, giving Percival more room to suck at the salty flesh. The music vibrated through him—or was that a moan? He wanted to believe the latter. Especially when Arthur’s other hand snaked around his waist to slam their hips together. The crush of his cock against Arthur’s hard stomach sent a jolt through him, and he grunted as his teeth scraped over the spot he sampled.

His lashes fluttered shut. Even the music disappeared.

“Perc…”

He thought he imagined it. Logic told him he shouldn’t be able to hear Arthur at all, except their heads were practically touching at this point, and he could feel the feather of lips along his jaw. He focused on his breathing, inhaling as deep as he could. The musky scent obliterated any desire but that to taste, to take, and his fingers tightened, digging into hard flesh, clutching Arthur close enough to make him gasp for breath.

“Percival…”

Not a figment, but real, as real as the hand sliding down to cup his ass. Though he’d known how exciting it could be to watch dancing couples, like Gwaine and Merlin, he’d never really appreciated it for himself. Now he got it. In the arms of someone attuned to his senses, someone whose desire ran just as high as his, it became more than moving to the music. They might as well be fucking in the middle of the floor, for all the heat saturating the sinuous rolls of their bodies.

An almost chaste kiss to the spot below his ear. Hot breath fanning upward. His name, whispered this time, shuddering through him. All of it acted as a call to drag Arthur out of here, get him away from all the people, strip him down and split him the way they both wanted, the way they both craved.

He stepped back without separating, ready to do so. An annoyed cry of pain shattered the temporary illusion the music and the enticement of Arthur’s body had created.

They parted in tandem, each twisting enough to see the victim of Percival’s blind navigation rubbing at his shins. An apology poised on the tip of his tongue, but Arthur beat him to it.

“Didn’t see you there.” He had to practically shout to be heard over the music. “Sorry about that.”

The young man lifted his head, irritation etched on his features. When his eyes met Percival’s, however, they widened in surprise, rounding even more when they swept over to Arthur. He was younger than they were, barely old enough to get in, with a slight underbite and doe eyes that would probably entice the most conservative man into corrupting. Percival’s first instinct was to protect the kid, but the quick hunger that replaced the agitation suggested protection was the last thing the young man wanted.

“Not a problem,” he shouted back. “I was standing too close anyway.”

He didn’t move, forcing Percival to let Arthur go completely if he wanted to get around him. When he stepped sideways, though, the young man did the same.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” His gaze darted between them. “The music’s great.”

“Getting drinks.” A polite excuse was better than shoving the kid off. Besides, he had eyes. All he had to do was look down and see the wood they sported. Their true intentions should be more than clear.

“How about I buy them? For getting in your way.”

Arthur quirked a brow. “You’re the one who got hurt.”

The kid smiled. “So you can make it up to me by joining me for a beer.” He took a step backward. Somehow, when he did it, he avoided colliding with anyone. “My mates have a table. You’re more than welcome to join me at it.”

He didn’t want to sit and have a drink. He wanted to get Arthur the fuck out of there so they could finish what they started. 

“Actually, we should—”

“Or someplace else,” the kid rushed. He dropped his eyes to Percival’s groin and swallowed hard. Percival was so horny at that point, even watching a stranger drool over his cock made him ache. “Whatever you want.”

 _Arthur._ That’s what he wanted. To prove it, he stepped behind Arthur and pulled him back against his chest, grinding his erection slightly at the contact of Arthur’s ass. “We’re here together, actually.”

He had to grit his teeth when Arthur squirmed back, but then the kid’s gaze shot up. The disco lights made his eyes alternately appear gold and black, lending him a sudden ferocity he didn’t expect. “So both of you come. I’m good with that.” His hopeful smile came with, “More than good.”

While Percival tried not to look as shocked at the proposition as he felt, Arthur chuckled, his body rubbing against him within the circle of his arms. His arm reached up and behind to catch Percival’s neck, pulling him down as he turned his head to murmur directly into Percival’s ear.

“Your call,” he said.

Giving him the power when he needed it. So like Arthur.

“He’s not the one I want to fuck.”

His declaration compelled Arthur even closer, his tongue darting out to flick at Percival’s ear. “This wouldn’t be my first choice, either,” he confessed. “There’s nothing I want more than your cock buried in me.”

“So why are we even talking about this?”

“Because it’s easier said than done. We both know that.”

Percival squeezed his eyes shut. Arthur was right, of course. He wouldn’t even fuck a virgin he didn’t have growing feelings for without making sure it would be as painless as possible. That required time. Preparation. Not a fumbling of pants and a slam of hips. It wasn’t his style.

“Let’s get out of here, then.”

“We will,” Arthur assured. “But…” He ground against Percival’s erection, drawing whimpers from both of them. “We could take the edge off now. I’ll get to watch that beautiful prick of yours in action.”

He groaned. “I’ll be wishing it’s your ass. You know that, right?”

“I’d hope so. I hope it’ll make you want me that much more.”

“I don’t know how that’s even possible.”

Arthur quivered against him, gulping suddenly for breath. “I love it when you say things like that.”

The raw need in his voice bolstered Percival’s strength. He was the one in control here. Arthur might have been the one to make the suggestion, but he was leaving it up to Percival’s choice. Each understood the stakes here. Each wanted the same end result. This was permission to take a little side trip on their way there, a journey Arthur hinted could be as satisfying as they wished it to be if they both approached it in the right way.

And right then, Percival figured out just how to do it.

Opening his eyes back up, he tilted his gaze to the waiting young man without lifting his head away from the crook of Arthur’s shoulder. Deliberately, he reached for Arthur’s chin and directed it forward.

“When I fuck him, he’ll scream,” Percival said, for Arthur’s ears only. “You’ll have to shut him up.”

The muscles worked in Arthur’s throat, but he stayed straight within Percival’s arms. “Yeah.”

“None of it matters to me, though. Remember that. Because at the end of the day, you’re still my cockslut, Arthur. And I’ll have your ass as mine soon enough.” He didn’t wait for a response, though he felt it tremble through Arthur. His next words were aimed straight for the kid. “Let’s go.”


	15. Chapter 15

Once they hit the dance floor, Arthur got it. He understood Percival’s desire to come back to Romp, and the healthy respect he already had for the man swelled to fresh heights. The dance was the necessary prelude to unlocking the door on his desires again. Letting go of his inhibitions there made it easier for him to let go of the others, the ones that stippled Arthur’s skin in gooseflesh when Percival took charge.

They’d been good until the interest of the young man he’d bumped into had thrown him.

Arthur didn’t doubt Percival probably got propositioned all the time. He had the same certainty Percival rarely accepted them. If the look on his face when this one had made the offer was anything to go by, he didn’t even believe that anyone would really want him, let alone want him badly enough to extend an invitation like that one right in the middle of a crowded club.

That was why Arthur nudged him in the direction of saying yes. Percival needed that confidence to realize he was the hottest guy in the building, and fuck, they both needed to come. And first thing tomorrow, he was taking the steps necessary to get ready for being the next guy Percival fucked, no matter what.

He couldn’t move with Percival’s arm clamped around his chest, so he waited while Percival’s meaning sank in. The young man burst into a delighted smile, and he gestured for them to follow as he pushed his way to the far corner of the room. Percival hooked fingers through Arthur’s belt loops and led the way, heedless of the heads that swiveled to watch them.

Another thing to love about the guy. He was completely oblivious to his own attraction.

In the corner, the young man stopped, shifting nervously back and forth on his feet. He thrust his hand out in greeting when they came to a halt in front of him. “I’m Gil, by the way.”

After a moment’s hesitation when Arthur thought he’d change his mind, Percival accepted the handshake. “Percival. This is Arthur.”

Gil’s eyes jumped between them, his smile as wide as ever. “You two were so fucking hot out there.”

Red crept up the side of Percival’s neck, and the hand that fell back to his side fidgeted in response to the compliment. For a split second, Arthur debated the effectiveness of this plan. Percival needed this, but he needed to want it, too, and right now, Arthur wasn’t convinced he was ready. He looked ready to rabbit. Guilt filtered through Arthur’s haze of desire.

“Did you want the drinks now?” Gil wasn’t waiting for responses, chattering away as if he suspected Percival’s reluctance. “Or we could get them later. Whatever you want.”

It might’ve been cute if Arthur wasn’t so wrapped up in how Percival was taking this. “Later,” he said, pre-empting another stalling tactic. When Percival nodded, he knew he’d made the right choice. “Why don’t we find someplace a little more private to take this?”

“The toilet,” Percival added. “The door locks.”

That was how they found themselves just a few minutes later at the scene of Arthur’s submissive awakening. It felt odd being back there with a third person in tow. He had the overwhelming urge to shove Gil out and take his place. He hadn’t even indulged in a casual fuck with Elyan because all he wanted was Percival. Why did he now think tossing a complete stranger into the mix would be okay?

Because when his gaze leapt to where Percival leaned against the door, arms folded across his chest as he stared down at Gil, he realized this wasn’t about this unknown third. This was about Percival, about doing this for him and his needs. This was about seeing what the gorgeous prick of his could do in action, and what he had to look forward to when it was his ass getting split open.

His erection had flagged a little in all his worries. At the promise of what he was about to see, it surged back to life, aching where it was trapped against his hip.

“Arthur.” The soft command of Percival’s voice snapped his attention back to the moment. “Show me what our friend Gil here has to offer.”

As Gil licked his lips, Arthur came up behind him and pressed to his back. His arms came around Gil’s waist, pulling the shirt he had tucked into his khakis free of the waistband, but he kept his eyes fixed on Percival, his gut burning hot at the way Percival stared back.

“I can do that,” Gil said when Arthur began to pull down the zip.

“You heard the man.” The cock he pulled free was short but fat, hard and hot where it rested in his palm. He stroked it once, using the leaking fluid from the tip to coat his way down again, then abandoned the play to shove the trousers out of his way. “This is the way he wants it.”

The corner of Percival’s mouth quirked. It wasn’t a smile, far from it. Gil probably hadn’t even seen it. But Arthur was coming to recognize all his favorite nuances in Percival’s expressions, and the man was definitely pleased.

To try and settle some of Gil’s skittishness, Arthur ground his crotch into his tight little ass. “Not having second thoughts about inviting both of us, are you?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

Percival unfolded his arms and reached for his fly. In spite of Arthur’s hold, Gil leapt forward to help, only to be met by Percival’s hard, “I don’t remember telling you to touch me.” 

Both men froze, though Arthur suspected their reasons were vastly different. Gil’s reaction was pure chastisement. Arthur’s was unbridled lust.

Several seconds of silence passed, only the distant throb of the music echoing through the toilet. When it was obvious Gil wasn’t going to move, Percival finished what he’d started, pulling out his cock to stroke it lazily in front of them.

“Jesus…” Gil whispered.

“Brilliant, isn’t he?” Arthur murmured. His mouth watered at the sight of the thick shaft cradled in Percival’s long fingers, but until Percival asked for him, he knew it was hands off. Instead, he dug into his pocket for the tube of lubricant he’d brought and tossed it to Percival. “Consider yourself a lucky bastard, mate.”

Lucky enough for Arthur to feel a sharp stab of jealousy, at least.

“Now Arthur,” Percival instructed.

When Gil turned to face him, Arthur let him go and took a step back, letting his arms drop to his side so Gil could go to work. His cock ached for the contact, and while Gil’s hands were eager and efficient, pulling him out without getting caught, tugging at his length to draw a moan from Arthur’s throat, it wasn’t quite right. He glanced at how Percival fisted his prick, the catch of a callus along the crown, the rub of his fingers against each other where they met around his girth.

_That_ was what he wanted. He was an idiot to ever think otherwise.

But Gil was already bending over, hungrily licking over Arthur’s crown as he presented to Percival, and the hot, wet suction obliterated Arthur’s wayward revelations. He grasped Gil’s head and forced him to be still, spreading his own legs wider apart for a better balance. He’d need it once Percival started thrusting. He had little doubt there’d be some power behind every stroke.

Percival wasn’t moving, though. His gaze was locked on Arthur, his hand motionless on his cock. It wasn’t fear in his face, not really. More like…uncertainty. A hesitation that betrayed far more than he thought Percival realized. This was the glass wall Percival lived behind, the one he caged himself within, the one that stopped him from getting everything he wanted but tortured him with the sight of everything he didn’t have.

Arthur’s playfulness abated, replaced by the driving need to set Percival free. Didn’t he realize how glorious he was when he wasn’t trapped? Hadn’t Arthur made that perfectly clear yet? If not, he’d failed somehow, because that was all he’d wanted since the first night they’d met.

He wouldn’t fail him again.

“He’s all yours, Percival.” Smoothing one hand down Gil’s back, Arthur leaned forward, forcing more of his length into the boy’s mouth. He caught one ass cheek, pulled it apart from its mate, and exposed the hole. Percival glanced down once, but his eyes quickly jumped back up to Arthur’s. Arthur smiled. “At the end of the day, all you have to do is take him. That’s what he wants.”

His deliberate mimicry of what Percival had said to him on the dance floor did not go unnoticed. Percival’s nostrils flared, and he took a step forward, releasing his cock to cover Arthur’s hand with his own. His thumb caressed Arthur’s, tracing over the ring, and the corner of his mouth lifted in silent understanding. If Arthur could’ve got closer, he would have tried to steal a kiss, but Gil was between them, as they’d planned from the start, so all he could do was return the smile and pull back to give Percival the quarter he needed.

It was a very good thing Gil couldn’t actually see as Percival began running lube up and down the boy’s crack. Though he was strong and careful in slicking him up, Percival kept glancing from the slow slide of Arthur’s cock in and out of Gil’s mouth, to Arthur’s face, down the length of his body, and then back to start the whole cycle again. Each moment he lingered on Arthur’s groin, Arthur’s internal temperature stoked another degree hotter. Because he knew Percival wasn’t seeing their third. He was imagining Arthur, just as Arthur had intended.

They might find their physical release with the willing Gil, but this entire encounter would fuel their mutual desire as much as their dance had.

As Percival slid his lubed thumb into the now slick opening, Gil pulled off Arthur and gasped. “You’re going to feel so fucking good.” He fought Arthur’s grip to twist around and look at Percival. His lips were already swollen from his sucking. “Do it hard.”

The loud slap of Percival’s hand across Gil’s buttock surprised everyone but Percival. Arthur’s ass clenched as if he’d been the one who was spanked.

“Do I look like I need you to tell me how to fuck?” Percival asked, his voice unexpectedly hard.

Gil swallowed. “No.”

“Do you want me to stop and fuck Arthur instead?”

_Oh, fuck yes._

“No. God, no.”

Percival stared at him for a long moment, then gave him a curt nod. “Shut this bitch up, Arthur. He wants cock? Stuff it down his throat.”

_There’s my Percival._

Arthur bit back his pleased smile and yanked Gil’s chin back. “You heard the man.” He slapped his cock across Gil’s cheek, smearing as much pre-come over the kid’s skin as he could. “Open wide.”

Gil did as he was told, whimpering when Arthur teased him for a minute first. Percival watched in fascination, his thumb working continuously at the hole. When he licked his lips, Arthur forgot about playing anymore and shoved into the wet cavern waiting for him. Percival’s sharp inhalation sent white-hot slivers straight through Arthur’s tight skin.

It was his turn to watch in rapt attention when Percival replaced his thumb with two fingers. The muscles in his arm flexed as he twisted and thrust into Gil’s ass, but in spite of his earlier forcefulness, each movement had a deliberate care to it. He was going to take his pleasure, but he was doing everything in his power to guarantee Gil had some, too. This would be the same thoughtfulness he would give Arthur when the time came. When it was just the two of them, in Arthur’s bed—or if he was lucky enough to get an invitation, in Percival’s—he would take hours prepping Arthur, driving him crazier with each touch of his talented hands.

That night could not come soon enough.

He wondered if Percival felt the same way.

The only reason he made it to the point of Percival rolling the condom down his shaft was because he kept allowing Gil to pull off and gulp for air. He was too close to the edge to even consider fucking the man’s face like Percival seemed to want. He’d come the first time he buried his cock. 

At the first blunt nudge against his opening, Gil gripped Arthur’s hips and bent his head, steeling against the penetration to come. Percival kept it slow, pausing when the head nestled firmly inside the ring of muscle, smoothing his hand over Gil’s lower back every time he gasped. Arthur forgot about his own needs. All he wanted was right there, in the thick length disappearing into Gil’s body, in Percival’s calming touch. His balls were tight when Percival bottomed out, and all three of them let out a collective breath.

It would’ve been the perfect time for more of Percival’s dirty talk, but when it didn’t come, Arthur was actually relieved. He loved it. A lot. But he loved it best when it was directed at him, not some random kid they were using to get off. 

Gil grunted when Percival began to move, though he’d learned his lesson about speaking up, even without Arthur’s cock as a gag. His fingers dug into Arthur’s legs, and his quick, hot breath scalded Arthur’s sensitive skin. He even went so far to lean his brow against Arthur’s thigh.

Nobody stopped him. Percival had his eyes closed, and Arthur was only interested in watching his almost elegant thrusts. Percival’s arms were corded hard from how tightly he reined in his strength. Holding back. Because he didn’t want to hurt the kid, even though Gil was squirming on his cock, trying to impale himself every time Percival withdrew. 

Something else to admire. Like he didn’t have enough already.

He fisted his length and set his strokes at the same rhythm Percival maintained. The first time his palm passed over the head, he gasped, the touch electric. Gil didn’t glance up, but Percival did. Their eyes locked, understanding passing between them.

Percival didn’t shut his eyes again. They moved together, hand and hips, at whatever tempo Percival maintained. When Percival leaned forward slightly, Arthur almost expected him to abandon Gil’s ass completely, so he was a little startled when he chose instead to reach around the young man’s hip to find his swinging cock. Gil cried out, his back arching, and Arthur got a scant view of Percival pumping Gil along with them.

Though he felt a little ashamed at having forgotten about Gil’s satisfaction in this arrangement, the added knowledge that Percival had not fanned Arthur hotter. No longer did he try and match Percival. He couldn’t. His legs already trembled with the way he perched on the cusp of coming, his balls so tight into his body that they hurt. He was the one holding onto Gil for balance now, and his moans and whimpers were the sounds he heard bouncing off the toilet’s walls.

He came first. Which wasn’t surprising. He shot onto Gil’s cheek in what felt like unending waves. His knees almost buckled when Gil turned his head to suck the tip past his lips, swallowing the last few drops. Closing his eyes was the only way to beat his vertigo.

Percival’s shout brought him back. The sight of Percival slamming into Gil’s ass with more force than he’d yet to use was glorious, his body taut like the string of a drawn bow. Gil was trembling, panting for breath. His come still clung to the fingers where Percival had grabbed onto his hip for the final stroke.

As Arthur sagged back onto the edge of the sink, Percival coiled an arm around Gil’s waist and helped him straighten, slipping out of his ass at the same time. He pressed a gentle kiss on the boy’s nape, prompting Gil to clutch at the arm holding him and let his head drop forward.

“We’ll clean up,” Percival said. “Go out and have yourself some fun.”

Gil snorted. “If you think anything is going to top this, you’re mad.”

With an indulgent smile, Percival slapped him lightly on the leg. “Go,” he repeated, peeling away to give Gil room. Arthur snagged a paper towel and wet it, waiting until Gil had pulled up his trousers before passing it over.

“Thanks.” Gil smiled at their reflections as he wiped away the come from his face. “Any time you want another go, all you have to do is say the word.”

Though Percival chuckled, he didn’t say a word, even after Gil slipped out.

Arthur watched him carefully. “You all right there?”

For a long minute, Percival gazed at the door lost in thought, but whatever conclusions he came to remained private. “When it’s just you and me, it’s not happening in a public toilet.”

“I know.”

The eyes Percival leveled at him were solemn and sincere. “Do you? Really?”

His heart had finally settled into a manageable rhythm, but the deeper implications of Percival’s query sent it racing again. He was in over his head. He might’ve been in so far since meeting Percival. But right here, right now, he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“Absolutely.” He smiled, knowing he was failing to hide his rampaging emotions but not really caring. “Now let’s clean up and get out of here.”


	16. Chapter 16

When Percival rang on Sunday night to confirm the details for their Monday job, he knew something was wrong from the moment Merlin said hello.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Merlin insisted when Percival pressed.

“Did you see Gwaine last night?”

_Was that a pause?_

“Yes. You’ve got the schedule in your email, but if you want, I’ll send it to your phone—”

“What did he do, Merlin?” He’d been flying high on the memories of his night with Arthur all day, but all of it came crashing down with the sudden worry Merlin’s had been a disaster.

“Nothing—”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, that’s your prerogative. Do you want this schedule or not?”

“Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine. I know someone who will.”

He disconnected and immediately thumbed through for Arthur’s number. His pulse had settled into a low, dangerous rate by the time Arthur picked up.

“I wasn’t expecting—”

“I need Gwaine’s number,” he interrupted. “Now.”

Arthur hesitated. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Merlin. Something happened last night, but he won’t tell me what it was.”

Another pause, longer than the first. “If that’s the case, maybe you shouldn’t interfere.”

“Like he didn’t interfere with you and me?” This wasn’t a debate. “Either give me the number, or I’ll get it somewhere else.”

He sighed. “Let me ring him. He’ll get defensive if you go in swinging.”

Nobody knew Gwaine like Arthur did, but Percival didn’t relish not having control. “I’ll promise to be reasonable.”

“You say that now. You haven’t been on the wrong end of one of Gwaine’s stonewalls. You have my word. I’ll call you back once I know what’s going on.”

It was the best he was going to get. Gwaine wasn’t the only practiced stonewaller.

His phone remained in his hand as he waited. Well, waited wasn’t the best term for what he did. He paced. He checked his ringer to make sure the volume was all the way up. He went to his laptop and found a hastily written email from Merlin begging him not to bother Gwaine.

He almost changed his mind at that one. He’d been furious with Merlin for interfering with him and Arthur, and there was a chance Merlin was at the fault this time.

The only reason he didn’t was because he had one indisputable fact. Merlin had nobody to champion him but Percival. If something was wrong, Percival would never forgive himself for not taking care of it.

When his phone rang three minutes later, it wasn’t Arthur’s name on the screen. He didn’t recognize the unknown number. He answered anyway.

“A blond birdie says you’re looking for me.”

Gwaine sounded all too cheerful. Percival wanted to reach through the phone and wring his neck.

“What happened last night between you and Merlin?” No point in idle chitchat.

“We had a date.”

“I know that. What _happened_?”

“Just dying of curiosity, are you?”

How Arthur put up with his glib attitude, he had no idea. “Merlin’s upset about something, and he won’t tell me what. Are you the cause?”

A bark of laughter. “Aren’t I always?”

Except this sounded _too_ glib. Like a canned response Gwaine pulled out because it was expected of him.

He switched tactics. “Look, Merlin likes you—”

More laughter, harsh and ragged, cut him off. “Really? Did he tell you that, or is that one of your magical tricks of deduction you keep up those enormous sleeves of yours? When you prefer sleeves, of course.”

The jibe about his attire at Romp wouldn’t get to him. Gwaine was on the defensive, which put Percival in a power position he didn’t intend to lose. “He was excited about your date last night. Because of you.”

“If you truly believe that, then the joke’s on both of us, mate. Because I might have been the one to show up with him, but I wasn’t the one who took him home.”

The declaration stopped Percival’s pacing. “Merlin pulled somebody else while he was on a date with you?” That didn’t sound like him at all.

“I’m sure it wasn’t intentional. Inevitable, perhaps.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“My fucking terrible choice of date venues, actually. Because I picked the one place in London Merlin was guaranteed to see that delicious ex of his last night.”

With that last tidbit of information, all the pieces fell into place. They’d gone to a martial arts exhibition. Lance had been Merlin’s instructor before they started dating. And Merlin was too much of a soft touch to tell Lance to fuck off if the other man dared to approach him.

“So you just let your date walk away when somebody else talked to him?”

“Merlin made his choice.” Gwaine’s voice went cold. “I don’t beg for anyone.”

“Fighting and begging are two entirely separate things.”

“What do you care? I would’ve thought you’d be happy to see the back of me.”

“I never said that.”

“You never had to.”

Gwaine’s assessment of him cut to the quick, and if he wasn’t so worried about Merlin, he might’ve argued the point further. At the end of the day, Gwaine was still Arthur’s best friend. Percival still wanted some kind of future with Arthur. Ergo, they needed to find some mutual accord.

“What did Lance say to him?”

“I don’t know. I gave them privacy when Merlin asked for it.”

“And then they just left together?”

“There was talk of hitting a pub. And as much as I wanted a drink, I didn’t want it bad enough to watch their little reunion.” He sighed. “Is that what you wanted to hear? May I go now?”

It gave him all the information he needed to confront Merlin about what was going on, but it left them on awful footing. “I’m sorry, Gwaine. I truly am.”

“Story of my life.” He hung up before Percival could say anything more. If Percival even knew what he _could_ say to make it better.

Another email from Merlin awaited him when he checked.

_It’s not as bad as it seems._

Sitting at his desk, he toyed with his phone. Calling Merlin back would accomplish little. He’d been devastated when Lance left him, so if Lance was now having second thoughts, who was it for Percival to remind Merlin of all the grief he’d gone through in the break-up? Maybe the time apart had been exactly what Lance needed to get his act together. Maybe this was the rebirth of something good and permanent in Merlin’s life. It wasn’t like Lance was a bad guy. Far from it. What could Percival actually do that would make the situation better?

Nothing.

This was Merlin’s choice. He’d made his reluctance to talk about it clear. As hard as it was, Percival needed to respect that.

His phone rang again when he was in the middle of emailing Merlin back. Arthur this time.

“Did you talk to Gwaine?” Percival asked.

“I know the gist of what happened, yeah. Did you talk to Merlin?”

Percival stared at the blinking cursor on the screen. “He says he’s fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I’m not.”

“Because of the ex?”

“I don’t want to see Merlin hurt.” _Again._

“Of course you don’t. He’s your friend.”

“I’m sorry Gwaine got caught in the middle of this.”

“Gwaine’s a big boy. He’ll manage.” Something rustled. “Let’s take your mind off all this. Let’s go out tonight.”

The unexpected offer soothed the ruffled edges of his nerves, successfully distracting him from the damning email. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his chair and let the memory of kissing Arthur goodnight replace his more current guilt games.

“As much as I love that idea, I shouldn’t,” he said. “I have an early morning.”

Arthur’s rich chuckle added fuel to the heat building beneath his skin. “And as much as I love the fact that you went straight to believing I’d tie you to my bed all night, that wasn’t what I meant.”

“Oh?”

“How about a pint somewhere? Where do you go to relax?”

That one was easy. And hard. “Merlin’s.”

Arthur laughed. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“But you must have a pub or cafe or someplace you like to hang out.”

An embarrassed flush crept up the back of his neck. Percival rubbed his eyes, wishing this wasn’t so difficult. “Not really. I usually just tag along with wherever Merlin wants to go.”

“But what if he’s not there?”

“I go work out.”

“Hm. Not that I’m against anything that gets you sweaty and half-naked, but I don’t think that’s what you need tonight.”

Arthur’s teasing tone made it simple to let go of some of the tension, and even simpler to play along. “Since when are you the expert on what I need?”

“Since I crowned myself Prince of everything Percival.”

The image of Arthur wearing a crown, preening as he stood with one foot on Percival’s back like he’d just conquered him, was too ridiculous not to laugh at. “You’re barmy, you know that?”

“I’ve got you laughing now, so I don’t give a toss what I am. Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?”

For Arthur, for the escape he promised… “I’ll be ready whenever you want me.”


	17. Chapter 17

The pub Arthur chose was tucked behind a Ladbrokes in Clapham, completely invisible from the quiet street. Its few patrons were mostly older, more concerned with their pints than new arrivals, and nobody said boo when Arthur laid claim to the dartboard in the corner. No mention was made of either Gwaine or Merlin. Percival was glad for the lack.

He won the first game amidst Arthur’s constant moans about his so-called height advantage. The second was closer, though only because Arthur kept cracking jokes just as Percival was ready to throw. By the time they started the third, Percival’s face hurt from grinning so much. He flubbed some early points, but just as he decided that maybe he could let Arthur have this win, Arthur leveled a dart at him in warning.

“Don’t even think it.”

His glaring was so over the top, Percival bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He widened his eyes in mock innocence. “Think what?”

“I happen to be a very good darts player, thank you very much.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“Watch it.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “What did I say? I was agreeing with you.”

Arthur scowled at him for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t need your pity.”

“I thought it was mercy.” He laughed and ducked when Arthur scooped up the nearest coaster and threw it at his head. “Fine, I’ll beat you again if it makes you feel better.”

“It does, thank you.” Arthur started to turn back to the board, but stopped with a frown. “Wait. That’s not right either.”

Percival reached for his pint, stretching out his legs as he got more comfortable. “Just play the game.”

When Arthur resumed his throw, it was hard not to sweep his gaze down that broad back, lingering on the worn seat of the man’s faded jeans and the perfect curve of his butt before returning upward to watch the flex of the muscles beneath his T-shirt as he let the dart fly. Contrary to Arthur’s assessment, a night out hadn’t been what he needed to relax. Arthur had been. Because nothing about this night so far had been wrong, and he could credit all that to the man currently crowing about pulling ahead in points.

“You really don’t like to lose, do you?” Percival asked as he took his place to throw.

Arthur shrugged. “You don’t get where I am by thinking you can.”

Pondering Arthur’s response messed with his aim. His dart pulled too far to the right.

“Did you ever consider not going into your father’s business?” Because in his mind, Arthur seemed savvy enough to do just about anything.

“Not really.”

“Could you have?”

Arthur shot him a curious frown as they switched places. “What’s brought all this on?”

A sudden, hungry desire to know more about the man. Details that weren’t sexual in nature. Tidbits about who he was and why he’d chosen Percival as his current flavor of the month. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Percival said with more nonchalance than he felt. “I know it’s none of my business.”

The playful glint in Arthur’s eyes faded. “You can ask whatever you want. I don’t mind.”

Perhaps not, but now that he’d turned it around on Percival, he felt uncomfortable posing the questions that would satisfy the urges beating against his brain. Though he knew the superficial facts, information easily gleaned from the media, pursuing more intimate details would encourage Arthur to do the same. He wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for that, even if occasionally today he’d wondered what it might be like if Arthur was as fully in the know as Merlin.

When he didn’t immediately respond, Arthur turned back to the board. “I started tagging along with my father before I was out of infant school,” he said as if Percival’s question hadn’t been interrupted by their little exchange. “He always bragged about how I’d take over the business some day. I never really thought about it being any different than that.”

“You could, though. I think you’re a better dealer than he is.”

“What do you know about my business deals?”

The question was asked without malice, a small laugh in Arthur’s voice like Percival had just claimed knowledge of something impossible. “As much as anybody else who bothers to pay attention.” Arthur had finished his throw and was regarding him with open interest, but Percival only straightened under the scrutiny rather than fold as he normally might’ve done. Arthur wouldn’t judge him unfairly because of an opinion. Of that, Percival was certain. “That business park in Camden, for instance. That was never going to fly and you knew it.”

“Oh, I did, did I?”

“You suggested your family company divert some of the resources toward a residential scheme, but your father vetoed it. Two months later, the entire project was scrapped.”

“That was never my deal.”

“Perhaps not in spirit. But it was a Pendragon deal, and if your father had listened to you, he could’ve saved himself a great deal of money.”

“He didn’t see it that way.”

“Of course not. He’s had too many years of getting exactly what he wants. You, on the other hand, understand the world is an ever-changing place, and if accommodations aren’t made, deals will die.”

None of these were opinions he’d formed since meeting Arthur in person, though knowing the man behind the business had certainly cemented them. He understood the look Arthur leveled at him, this mixture of disbelief, mild awe, and genuine curiosity. He’d received it from more than one professor at uni when they discovered the bruiser in the corner actually had a mind behind the muscles.

“How on earth do you know what happened with Camden?” Arthur asked. “The plans I had made for the housing never made it past Father’s desk.”

“One of the first jobs Merlin and I ever had was working for an assistant director in the Camden Council. A good part of what I do is just listening. You were a hot topic of conversation that night.”

“And you remember that.”

Percival lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “It’s what I do.”

Arthur retrieved his dart, his eyes distant as his thoughts went elsewhere. “Father originated that deal before the 2010 elections. I knew after Labour took control there we’d have difficulties.”

“As should he.”

He snorted. “Father’s of the opinion anybody can be bought. It’s just a matter of finding the price.”

And therein rested the difference between father and son, though Percival was wise enough not to say that out loud. As astute as he was, Arthur likely knew that already. Percival’s confirmation would make him look petty and partisan.

“That’s why I asked whether you’ve ever considered working on your own,” he said instead. “You don’t need him.”

“He has the connections.”

“I think you’d surprise yourself.”

Standing next to the table with their drinks, Arthur fiddled with his pint glass, mentally weighing Percival’s assertions. “Every once in a while, I wonder what it would be like if I didn’t have to answer to him. Make my own choices. But honestly, I couldn’t do that to him. It just seems…disrespectful after everything he’s done for me. Everything he’s said he wants for me.”

Another revelation that didn’t surprise Percival. One of the things he’d learned about Arthur was how much he valued respect for others. His father would automatically top that list, no matter what was said.

“It must be like that with you and Merlin,” Arthur said.

Percival took his place at the board. “Not really.”

“You two agree all the time? I find that hard to believe.”

“We tend to agree on business matters, yes. It’s one reason why we work so well together.”

“But not private.”

They’d avoided the subject of Merlin and Gwaine all night. He could indulge a little bit now.

“Merlin is…an optimist. He sees good in people regardless of whether they deserve it or not.”

A small frown replaced Arthur’s contemplative expression. “I hope you’re not talking about Gwaine.”

“I’m talking about everybody.” He tried a small smile to mitigate Arthur’s concern. “Myself, included.”

Shaking his head, Arthur drained the rest of his beer. “Well, that’s not so hard to believe. You’re a decent guy.”

“You haven’t known me as long as Merlin has. You see what you want to see.” Or what Percival allowed, which luckily had turned out to be the same thing so far. Before Arthur could request details, he went on. “My point is, Merlin makes choices sometimes I can’t even fathom. He’s much better at seeing the long view than I am, and we’ve had more than one argument when I’ve failed to understand why he’s doing something. So I’ve learned to let it go and just trust him to know what he’s doing.”

“You didn’t seem so willing to let it go when you called for Gwaine’s number.”

“Because I thought it was about something Gwaine had done, not the other way around.” He sighed and reached for his glass. He seriously needed a refill. “I’m truly sorry I jumped to that conclusion. Especially since he seems to believe I don’t like him.”

With both their glasses empty, Arthur scooped Percival’s up and headed for the bar. “You haven’t seen Gwaine at his best. This thing with Merlin has really tied him up in knots.”

He mulled that over while Arthur got them more drinks. He couldn’t imagine Arthur being friends with someone completely selfish, and Merlin wouldn’t have agreed to the real date if he didn’t see something in Gwaine, too. Toss in the fact that even if he knew he couldn’t really do much about Merlin and Lance it still left him frustrated and angry, and he’d bet he and Gwaine might have more in common than either of them realized.

“Fuck.” Arthur stood in front of him with two fresh pints. “I got you thinking again. I should never have brought up Merlin.”

“No, no, it’s all right. It’s not like I won’t have to face him tomorrow anyway.”

“Tomorrow’s not today. Drink up. We’ll get pissed and then we won’t even be able to remember their names.”

He took the beer with a half-smile, but made no move to otherwise drink it. “You know, I’ve never heard you talk about anybody other than Gwaine. But you must have other friends.”

“Some,” Arthur conceded. “Nothing like what you have with Merlin, though.”

“Not even Gwaine?”

Pulling out the other chair, Arthur straddled it and rested his arms on the back. “I would never go into business with Gwaine. Well, except for the odd investment here and there. He doesn’t give a whit about money.”

“What does he do?”

“Whatever he wants. Lives off his investments, mostly, though he’s held a job here and there.”

“No offense, but how on earth did you two get to be friends?”

His eyes grew wistful. “He helped me come out, actually. I was dating these girls and being a miserable git about it all. He saw it, and well…” Arthur chuckled. “I suppose, seduced me is the most accurate way to describe it. He showed me what I’d been denying myself, then stood next to me when my father found out. I even lived with him for a while when Father kicked me out of the house.”

Percival gaped. “He kicked you out?”

“Apparently, Uther Pendragon wasn’t too keen on his son being a poof. It took him about six months to realize he needed me, regardless of who I was fucking.”

No, Percival didn’t imagine the senior Pendragon would be very amenable to it at all, though it sounded like Arthur had got off rather easy in the grand scheme of things. 

Certainly far better than Percival had.

“It sounds like Gwaine’s reliable in the ways that matter,” Percival said. “Which makes him more like Merlin than you’re giving him credit for.”

Arthur’s mouth twisted into a sad smile. “Shame they couldn’t work it out, though. I was starting to think Merlin might actually be the one to show Gwaine there’s more to life than his constant parties.”

He wanted to ask if Arthur believed that might get in the way of their own developing relationship, but fear over what the answer might be stayed Percival’s tongue. Everything was still too delicate to risk bludgeoning it with those sort of anxious questions, especially since he wanted more than anything else for this to last longer than a few dates. He had no doubts they’d get as far as satisfying Arthur’s urge to feel what it was like for Percival to fuck him, but beyond that…

Wishing for more felt like risking fate. He liked Arthur. For a lot more than the sex.

But he’d never seen anyone more than a couple times. He’d certainly never had anyone express interest in digging past his shyness to stick around and find out what was underneath. What if he fucked this up?

“I’ve done it again,” Arthur commented.

“What’s that?”

Leaning forward, Arthur tapped a finger wet with condensation against Percival’s forehead. “Stop thinking. You Houdini from me when you do that.”

He flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just don’t do it.”

“That’s not as easy as it sounds.”

“No, I suppose for you it isn’t.” He searched Percival’s eyes, continuing to tickle along the edges of his face. “All these thoughts. You don’t have to keep them bottled up, you know. I do have a perfectly good working set of ears.”

Arthur’s fingers etched a fiery trail over his skin. When Arthur touched him like that, he could barely breathe, let alone think. “I’m not nearly as interesting as you always seem to think I am.”

“Then why is it I can’t get you out of _my_ head when you’re not around?”

“Because I’m a king-sized novelty,” he tried to joke.

“No.” Said with no humor, no smile. Only solemn sincerity. “You can think whatever rubbish you want, but not that. I won’t let you get away with that one.”

Percival swallowed against the tightness of his throat. “That implies you let me get away with other things.”

An impish glimmer broke through the somber façade. “If you only knew.”

If Arthur was willing to confess to his own mild obsession, Percival could meet him halfway. “I was thinking that I didn’t want to fuck this up. But that I’m afraid I don’t know how _not_ to.”

Arthur settled back and cradled his pint between his hands. “Then that makes two of us. We’ve both made mistakes.”

“We’ve both fixed those mistakes, too.”

Bright blue eyes locked on his. “So doesn’t that answer your own question?”

It did to some degree. More importantly, it said that Arthur trusted him to keep trying even when things got difficult. Like this mess with Gwaine and Merlin, and Gwaine thinking Percival didn’t like him. He couldn’t do much about the Merlin situation, but Gwaine was another matter. Being a part of Arthur’s life would mean getting along with his best friend. He dreaded taking that step, but he feared potentially losing Arthur over it even more.

“Well enough to remember I still have to beat you if I want a clean sweep tonight.” With a grin, he picked up his darts and rose to take his place at the board. He wasn’t losing Arthur now, that was for sure, which meant he was going to enjoy the time he had with him to the fullest. “Now how many points do I need to catch up?”


	18. Chapter 18

Work consumed everything for the next few days. Percival was up before five, out the door before six, and on the train on his way to Chelmsford before most people were even hitting the tube. There, he put in sixteen hour days, assisting in the coordination of all the security staff’s training for an upcoming rugby game that had the owners and coaches in an uproar. The last time these two teams had met, more than a dozen people had ended up in hospital. Merlin and Percival had been hired to help in keeping that from happening again.

His exhaustion at the end of the day was both the best and worst parts of the job. He dozed on the train, then collapsed as soon as he hit his bed, sleeping the night through without dreams or disturbances. Pushing himself so hard on a physical level had always been his favorite way to annihilate thoughts and feelings he had little control over.

It also took away all chance to speak to anyone but the crew at training, though. Merlin was busy in the city with the finer details of game day, and outside of a few texts, his contact with Arthur was nonexistent. He told himself it was better this way, that it put some distance between the intense hours they spent together and helped keep their relationship in perspective, but each time he found a message from Arthur waiting for him on his phone, his heart leapt a little.

They were all innocuous, but each one made him smile.

_We need a rematch. The beer fucked with my aim._

_Remind me again why I bother driving in the city?_

And his favorite…

_Miss you._

On Thursday morning, he slapped at his alarm when it went off. The work in Chelmsford was done, but he’d been too tired the night before to reset the clock. He fell back asleep, to wake up a few hours later to his ringing phone.

He squinted at the time, inwardly groaning when he saw it was past nine. Shit. Half his morning was gone.

“Hello?”

“You have no idea how glad I am you picked up.”

Elena’s bright voice took him by surprise, and he swung his legs over the side of the bed to stretch out some of the midnight kinks. “I didn’t realize you were trying to get a hold of me.”

“Well, actually, I haven’t been. This was my first try. I’m just relieved I don’t have to waste time finding you.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, no, nothing’s wrong. I was hoping you were free for lunch today. I have a business arrangement I’d like to discuss with you.”

He rolled his neck, grimacing when it audibly cracked. “Merlin’s the one who takes care of our schedule. Did you try ringing him?”

“He can come along, too, if that’s what you need. But honestly, it’s a simple job. Not anything nearly as complicated as the opening.”

If she’d called a day before, he would have had to say no. Her timing seemed too fortuitous to ignore, especially since he was actually in the city today. “All right, lunch it is. Where do you want us to meet you?”

At twelve-thirty, he and Merlin navigated through the tightly clustered tables at the cafe Elena had suggested near Hyde Park, wending their way to where she sat in the corner. He hadn’t had the opportunity to really speak with Merlin yet. They’d met at Merlin’s flat, then hopped straight on the Underground to get to lunch on time. Merlin looked calm and relaxed, though, and the few words they’d exchanged lacked the stress that had colored his speech on Sunday. Hopefully, once they were done with Elena, Percival could ask a few careful questions and find out what was going on with Lance.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Elena said as Percival slid onto the bench at her left. “They do proper Percival-sized sarnies here.”

“I’m starved,” Merlin announced. He scooped up one of the menus left in the middle for them. “What’s good?”

“Just about everything. You can’t really go wrong.” Her smile was genuine, her voice warm. “So how’ve you been?”

“Good. Busy.”

“Booming business is always good to hear. And Arthur? How’s he?”

Her casual inquiry startled him into looking up from his menu, but she was still absorbed in hers, unaware of his reaction. Merlin glanced at him with a small frown.

“He’s fine, too, last I heard.” As much as he might like Elena, he didn’t wish to discuss his personal life. “So what’s this job you wanted to talk about? It’s a simple one, you said.”

“An absolute doddle. I need you to be my date for a party I can’t worm out of tomorrow night.”

He blinked. She’d made the declaration without even breaking away from her reading, like it was the most normal thing in the world to ask the gay security specialist to escort her to a function.

“A date,” Merlin repeated slowly. “You know, that doesn’t exactly fall within our company’s purview.”

She finally set the menu down. “Why not?”

He and Merlin exchanged a swift look. “Because we’re not an escort service,” Merlin said.

“But I need Percival to go with me.”

His turn. “Why? I’m sure you have other…” He hesitated. Was he a friend? An acquaintance? Ex-employee? How did Elena view him, and why would she put him in this kind of awkward situation?

“The party’s a fundraiser for my grandmother’s children’s charity,” she explained. “And my stepmum will be going. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who’s been able to deal with her so graciously and still keep her out of my face at the same time. I need _you_ there.”

That made a little more sense. “Won’t the security already in place enforce the order against her?”

Elena shook her head. “She’s been a part of the charity since before she married my father. I tried getting out of it, but he’s made it very clear this is a family function, and I’m required to attend. Things could get difficult if I didn’t go.” She reached over and rested her hand on his forearm. “Please, Percival. I know it’s not your usual job, but you’re the best man for it. I’d feel so much better knowing you were there in case she makes a scene.”

Her wide eyes pleaded with him to accept. Their budding friendship made it difficult to even consider saying no, especially since she so obviously valued what he could do. But the notion of pretending to be her date to gain entrance to the party left him uncomfortable. It wasn’t a real date. He understood that. But it felt wrong, like he was betraying Arthur. Completely ridiculous, of course. They were hardly exclusive. They’d only had three real dates. Well, four if he counted that first night at Romp. And he wanted to count it, because that was what had started it all.

“Just how big is this party?”

“Almost five hundred people.”

“With that many guests, it’ll be hard enough keeping an eye on your stepmother if I also have to be with you.” Perhaps if he took the professional perspective, he could bow out gracefully. 

Her gaze swiveled to Merlin. “Could you do it? That would leave Percival to watch the party. And then he’s got a set of back-up eyes.”

Merlin shrugged. “Sure.”

“Percival will still need a date, though,” Elena mused. “Everything is done in pairs.”

“Just put me on the security detail—”

“No, I’ve got it. Arthur would be perfect for this.” She barreled onward, oblivious to Percival’s protestation. Scooping up her phone, she flipped through several screens in search of something.

“Wait.” Panic bubbled in the back of his throat. “You’re ringing him?”

“Of course. I need to give him all the details. Oh, there it is.”

As she pressed a button, Percival slumped back against the bench, his face hot with embarrassment. How did she have Arthur’s number? _Why_ did she have Arthur’s number? Why on earth did she think Arthur would ever agree to such a public display?

Merlin’s foot tapped lightly at his ankle, jerking him from his thoughts. The quizzical look Merlin shot him couldn’t be answered properly, as Arthur picked up the other end of the line and Elena launched into her spiel.

“You don’t need a formal invitation,” she said after her initial introduction. “I’ll get your names put on the guest list as soon as we’re done with lunch here…Well, I tried that, but he made a perfectly valid point about how he couldn’t keep an eye on her if he’s busy with me…” She laughed. “That’s your problem, not mine. But I’m sure Percival would make it up to you later.” She listened for a few more minutes, time that crawled by as he desperately wished he could hear what Arthur was saying. His hands refused to settle, his stomach tumbling in revolt as well. Going out to the pub or dinner was one thing. Being Arthur Pendragon’s date for a function that would be spread across every gossip rag in the country was something else entirely. “Hang on, he’s right here.”

Percival stared at the phone she held out to him. “What does he want?”

“To talk to you, silly.” She nudged it against his hand until he took it, shaking her head at his reluctance.

“I didn’t know you were having lunch with Elena today,” Arthur commented after their mutual greeting. “If I’d known you were done in Chelmsford, I would’ve called you myself.”

“I didn’t know until this morning when she asked.” Elena’s steady gaze made him squirm. “What did you say to her?”

“That I’d do it, of course. Was I not supposed to?”

“No, if you can make it, that will help her tremendously.”

“Her.” Arthur was astute enough to catch onto how he’d phrased it. “But not you? She said your excuse in turning her down was you needed to keep an eye out for her stepmum. Was that just to get out of taking the job?” He paused. “Or is this about me?”

It was, just not in the sense Arthur meant. He couldn’t very well air his own insecurities in front of Elena, though. “Neither. So you’re good with this?”

“I get to see you in a suit again. Of course I’m good with it.”

Swallowing his nerves about the propriety of it all, Percival gave Elena a reassuring thumbs up. “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night. Put Elena back on.”

Thankfully, his hand wasn’t shaking when he passed back the phone, though he drained his water glass in one long gulp. Merlin still watched him with concern, but Elena seemed oblivious to his discomfort when she finally hung up.

“I’m so glad that’s settled.” She picked up her menu. “I’m absolutely famished.”

“How…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. He tried again. “I didn’t realize you knew Arthur that well to just ring up him like that.”

“Oh, our fathers have done business before. I knew who he was when he came to the gallery.”

 _And he just gave you his number?_ There was no way to pose the question without looking like a nutter, or worse, a jealous boyfriend. He had no fears Arthur was interested in Elena in any type of romantic sense, but Arthur hadn’t said a word about knowing her well enough to be ringable at the drop of a hat.

Yet…he was. And they were familiar enough for Elena to make such a request from him.

Percival wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t. There was nothing there to be jealous of.

Except…he was. Just a little. Because in the most private part of his heart, Arthur was his.

Whether he had the fortitude to admit that out loud or not.

* * *

“So everything’s good between you and Arthur?”

Merlin’s careful question came on their way to the Underground, posed in a deliberate concoction of casualness and curiosity. No more mention of his personal arrangements for the party had been made during lunch, and Elena had left them seemingly pleased as punch that they had agreed to help her.

“Yeah,” Percival replied. “It looks that way.” Now was his chance to ask about Lance, but with the opportunity well within his grasp, it felt awkward and imposing to bring it up.

Merlin saved him the trouble.

“I was worried. After Sunday night.” He glanced up at Percival, genuine contrition in his eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you lose this shot with him.”

With the door open, he could press on with fewer fears that he was interfering unnecessarily. “Am I ever going to hear what actually happened on Saturday?”

“Gwaine didn’t tell you?”

“Gwaine shouldn’t have to.”

A sheepish grin curved Merlin’s mouth. “Yeah, good point there. I probably should’ve told you Sunday, but…well, I wasn’t exactly proud of myself.”

He might not know all the details, but he could certainly make it easier for his best friend. “I know you ran into Lance. And I know you left with him.”

“It’s not what it looks like. I tried to get Gwaine to come with us.”

“Merlin, even _I’ve_ figured out how he hates being the odd man out.”

“He wasn’t…” His voice faded, and a slow flush crept up the back of his neck. “Fuck.”

His obliviousness didn’t really surprise Percival. He’d adored Lance from the start. Even with the break-up, he saw the man with rose-colored glasses. “Are you two back together?”

Merlin shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. Lance came over, and the first thing out of his mouth was an apology for how things had ended. And you know Lance. He meant it.”

“He always does,” Percival muttered under his breath.

“All he wanted to do was catch up on what’s been going on.” Now Merlin was getting defensive, another trait from his failed relationship. “There was nothing wrong about that.”

It was his odd emphasis on _that_ that gave Percival pause. From the way Merlin refused to look at him, he understood why within seconds. “You slept with him, didn’t you?” 

Merlin’s silence was answer enough.

Even though it confirmed what he’d suspected all along, he didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t his strong suit. Merlin was the people expert, and yet, as they descended the stairs into the station, Percival couldn’t shake the certainty they were both missing something here. 

“Are you two getting back together?” he finally found the nerve to ask, once they’d settled on the train.

“Lance won’t be in London for much longer. He’s got another exhibition in Paris in two weeks.”

His non-response left a sick feeling in the pit of Percival’s stomach. “That’s not what I asked.”

Merlin scratched at a bit of flaky paint on the edge of the poster next to him. “He suggested I go with him.”

His stomach completely fell away at that. “You’re quitting?”

“No,” Merlin said quickly, his voice on the sharp edge of anger. “I wouldn’t do that. We’ve worked too hard to get to where we are. Lance just doesn’t understand.”

“Then what is it?” Because Merlin’s reaction was too strong to be simple depression over Lance not sticking around. Again.

A sharp sucking in of his breath. Percival’s ears burned as he waited for the response.

“I thought about it, all right? For a minute or so.” Merlin stared straight ahead, either incapable of meeting Percival’s eyes or unwilling. Neither option made Percival happy. “I wondered what it would be like to travel with Lance and forget London, forget all the hours and…everything else.”

 _Everything else_ was Percival. He didn’t need to hear it uttered to know it for fact.

“Is that what you want?”

“No. Yes. Not really.” With a frustrated sigh, Merlin collapsed forward, resting his head in his hands. “I miss him, Perc. That’s all. And I thought…if that was the way I had to get him back, maybe I could do it.”

This had been the secret gnawing away at him since Sunday, and yet, he’d conducted business like nothing was amiss, like nothing was changed. Percival tried to reconcile that with the dread the sudden admission created in him, a hurricane of hopelessness at the possibility of Merlin not being there. Merlin had been an integral part of his life ever since they’d met. He’d shown Percival he wasn’t the monster he thought he was, believed in him when nobody else would. Could. He couldn’t imagine a future without Merlin in it.

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him no, of course.” He looked at Percival like he was mad for even asking. “We’ve worked too hard to get to where we are. This is everything we’ve dreamed about. I’m not about to throw it all away by just walking off.”

“Except you love him.”

“Would you quit the business if Arthur asked you to?”

“I’m not in love with Arthur.”

Merlin cocked a brow.

“I’m not.”

“Yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t quit for anyone.”

“Neither would I.” He sighed. “But I’m not proud of the fact that I’d think about it, either.”

It killed him to admit that. The slumped lines of his body gave it away. Percival rested a hand on his shoulder, hoping the reassurance would help to assuage his guilt, but knowing it wasn’t likely to do so.

“You should talk to Gwaine about this,” he said.

Merlin snorted. “The last thing Gwaine wants to hear is me whingeing about my ex. I couldn’t even convince him to go out for a pint with us, remember? And if Gwaine’s turning down a drink…”

“Then don’t talk to Gwaine. Call him and shag his brains out until you can’t even remember Lance’s name.”

The shock on Merlin’s face almost matched how he felt for having uttered the words aloud. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

“You’re obsessing on Lance again,” he said in explanation. “All I meant was, stop. If he felt the same way about you that you do about him, he wouldn’t ask you to give up everything just to be with him. That was why he left in the first place, remember? You two wanted different things.”

The train coasted to a stop, and the doors whispered open. Merlin led the way onto the platform, leaving Percival to follow. Had he gone too far to say what he was really thinking? It wasn’t often he dared to venture advice on a personal nature to Merlin. Of the two of them, he was the one normally left floundering. But Merlin was too close to all of this to see what it was doing to him, and Percival was tired of seeing him suffer for it.

“Call Gwaine,” he repeated when they emerged onto the street. “At the very least, you owe him an apology for Saturday.”

Merlin nodded, though he didn’t seem pleased about it. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a git about it all.”

“You haven’t. I know how hard it is to let it go.”

The look Merlin cast him was full of understanding. Percival’s losses might not have been romantic, but they ran just as deep. Only Merlin would get that.

Though they waved goodbye, Percival didn’t move, even after Merlin had disappeared into his building. Pulling out his phone, he punched in a number, relieved when it picked up almost right away.

“Elena change her mind already?” Arthur joked.

“What’re you doing?”

“What? Now?”

He gripped the phone tighter. “Yes.”

“Working on some contracts.” His tone dropped the amusement, as serious now as Percival’s. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to see you. Can you be at your place in an hour?”

“Now you’re just worrying me. What happened?”

He took a long breath, turning away from the busy street to focus on the urgency in Arthur’s voice, the memory of their last kiss. He couldn’t explain it, not in a way Arthur would understand. But he had to at least try.

“Someone reminded me how lucky I am I met you. Can you do it? Can you get away?” The _please_ was right there, ready to beg for him. He’d give a hundred more if he could just get Arthur to say yes.

He didn’t have to.

And as he signaled for an oncoming taxi to stop, he gave silent thanks that for now at least, he and Arthur wanted the exact same thing.


	19. Chapter 19

Arthur wasn’t sure what it was about the tightness of Percival’s voice, but he gave the taxi driver an extra hundred pounds to get him back to the flat well within the time limit Percival had requested. He didn’t care about leaving his car at the office. He needed to make sure he didn’t miss Percival, or whatever it was that had driven him to ring.

When the taxi pulled up, a familiar tall form leaned against the building near the door, straightening when Arthur emerged. His eyes were dark, boring into Arthur across the distance, tracking every movement like a wild animal trapped within a barred cage. Though Arthur smiled at him upon approach, Percival’s gaze remained solemn, his hands shoved into his front pockets. The denim strained against the fists his hands made in their fabric prison. Arthur’s chest tightened as he let both of them into the building.

All the way to his flat, he kept waiting for Percival to say something. A greeting. A thank you. An explanation of what it was all about. Nothing came. The weight of the regard on Arthur’s back stoked his curiosity higher, his flesh going hot as he wondered what was running through Percival’s thoughts. He could always ask, but something told him to wait. Percival would let him know when the time was right.

It felt like an eternity to reach his door, and than another eternity to open it. Percival’s arm shot out over his head and caught the edge, guiding it as it swung, but the moment they were both over the threshold, he slammed the door shut behind them, his hand dropping to catch Arthur’s shoulder and yank him back.

Arthur stumbled, but only for a moment, only for the time it took Percival to shove him against the door and pin him there with his long body. When Arthur tried to reach for him, Percival grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm over his head, blocking it from moving as he crushed their mouths together.

His lips were already parted when they met, his tongue hot and demanding as it thrust past Arthur’s unsuspecting defenses. Teeth scraped against the sensitive inner skin. There might have been a hint of blood. But Arthur embraced the hungry assault, the heat spiraling through the stratosphere at the way Percival blanketed him. He returned the kiss as vehemently as Percival had started it, forgetting any worries he might have harbored about what this might be about. Sensation was enough. Percival was enough. Nothing else mattered.

The thick line of Percival’s erection ground against Arthur’s stomach, scraping the zipper of his trousers along the length of his trapped cock. He ached from how quickly he’d been pushed to the rock-hard edge, and his groans punctuated their kisses as Percival refused to ease off. Each grind was an exquisite cocktail of pleasure and pain, both as necessary to their mounting lust as the other. He tried to grab onto Percival’s hip with his free hand to help synchronize their motions, but Percival batted that one away, too, knocking it back until his knuckles grazed over the wooden jamb.

“Don’t.” The order came out as a growl, huskier than he’d ever Percival sound before. Another kiss smashed his lower lip against his teeth, at least until Percival sucked it into his mouth and licked across the sore spot. “I’m in charge right now.”

“All right,” Arthur breathed. He’d promise anything in that moment. His entire world comprised of a single man, a single intent.

Percival pushed between their bodies to cup Arthur’s arousal and squeeze. “Didn’t take you long to get hard.”

“You, either.”

“I was already hard.”

Arthur met his desire-darkened eyes. “Maybe I was, too.”

A flare of nostrils. An infinitesimal dip of lashes as Percival glanced at his mouth. “What if I said I wanted to fuck you? Right here. Right now.”

The jolt that went through Arthur wasn’t just anxiety about whether or not Percival meant to finally take his virginity without the benefit of prep or lube. It was a response to the longing in Percival’s tone, the firm press of his fingers as he massaged Arthur’s cock through his trousers. More than anything else, it was certainty about another man he’d never felt before, a knowledge of trust that rocked the foundation of everything he’d always believed about himself.

“I’d say, took you long enough.”

The hand around his cock jerked, clamping almost painfully for a second as the words sank in. Percival met the dare in Arthur’s gaze head-on, the corner of his mouth crooking in the scantest smile.

“I promised you a bed. I don’t intend to break that promise.”

Arthur scrambled to remember when such a vow had been made, then heard Percival’s voice as he’d uttered it in Romp’s toilet. That kind of promise was easily forgotten, spoken in the heat of the moment, quickly explained away when clearer heads prevailed. He would never have begrudged Percival for changing his mind, but knowing he had no plans to only confirmed everything he already knew about the man.

He clenched his trapped hand into a fist, forcing Percival to tighten his grip. “But I’m getting your cock, right? You didn’t drag me out of work to deny me that.”

When Percival bent his head, Arthur readied for another kiss, but instead, felt the tickle of Percival’s tongue as he traced Arthur’s lip. “Wrong,” Percival murmured. “As good of a little cocksucker you are, I’m not letting you go long enough for you to get on your knees where you belong.”

His lungs seized, his head spinning. Each stroke along his lips tickled, but he didn’t dare turn away from it. Percival would only chase him down if he did.

“Where does that leave us then?”

In reply, Percival let go of his cock, fingers drifting upward to work at the button on his trousers. He flicked them open without having to lift his head away, then abandoned Arthur’s crotch completely to work at his own. The back of his hand kept brushing across the hem of Arthur’s shirt, teasing him with the lightest of touches against his straining erection. Arthur tried to strengthen the contact by thrusting his hips forward, but Percival put a stop to that by pushing him back against the door.

“Greedy little sluts don’t get to call the shots,” he warned.

The words tattooed against Arthur’s mouth, hot and alluring. The more Percival called him that, the more real it felt. “Do I get to at least find out what game we’re playing?”

Percival didn’t speak, but his hand continued moving, shoving clothing out of his way until his bare cock brushed against Arthur’s stomach. The tip dripped already, marking Arthur with pre-come, but Percival wasn’t prolonging the game, leaving the weight resting against Arthur’s body to dip inside his pants and pull out his prick. In a fluid move, he grasped both of them in his broad hand, but not even his fingers were long enough to go all the way around both shafts.

“This.”

Percival murmured the word before claiming Arthur’s lips again, as bruising in his oral attack as he was careful in the way he began to stroke their cocks together. Arthur gasped against his mouth, shuddering at the hot flesh pulsating against him. Muscles strained to reach for Percival, but remained confined by the other man’s overwhelming strength. When he brought his other arm up instead, Percival growled into the kiss, demanding without a word that he lower it again.

Arthur did. Because what Percival wanted, he wanted.

His senses were awash with everything Percival. The callused hand jerking their cocks in tandem. The garlicky tang of his tongue as he delved into the dark corners of Arthur’s mouth. Shoulders pinning him to the door, legs spread to cage his hips. And the smell…the scent of musky sweat, Percival’s light shampoo, their rising arousal as the strokes became harder, faster. It would haunt him for the rest of the day. The night, too, most likely.

From the relentless way Percival kept at it, Arthur’s balls tightened too soon. He tried to hold it off. He thought back to his waiting contracts, dry as toast. He dug his nails into his palm, desperate for the pain to stem the pleasure. Nothing worked. Percival was too good, or Arthur was too hungry, or perhaps they both needed this too much to stave off their release. 

He exploded with a sudden blissful rush, arching away from the door to drive into the tight circle of Percival’s hand. When Percival came seconds later, the added heat and stickiness prompted whimpers and shivers, his entire body shaking as the aftershocks reverberated through him. Percival continued to stroke, using their mingling come as lube, and slowed their kisses until it seemed like the entire world had ground to a halt with them.

His mouth felt bruised when Percival pulled away, and he sagged back, depleted of all his strength. “You’ve effectively ruined me for the rest of the day,” he said with a smile. “Do I get to find out why?”

Percival stroked their softening shafts one more time, then lifted his hand. Come dripped down his fingers, and without a word, he pressed two past Arthur’s lips. Arthur sucked at them hard, his tongue swirling around each digit to lick away every drop. It didn’t matter if it was his or Percival’s come. He wanted it all, no matter what. If it was both of theirs, that was all the better.

“I want you thinking about me until we meet tomorrow for Elena’s party,” Percival said as Arthur continued to suck. 

His fingers made a wet plopping sound when he pulled them free. Arthur swallowed the temptation to chase after them and clean the rest of the skin, too.

“You don’t have to go,” Arthur said. “That’s one way to ensure I’m always thinking about you.”

“I’d rather have you anticipating what comes next.” A soft smile. “Make this last.”

_This_ could’ve been anything. The waiting until he took Arthur’s ass. The attraction between them. Everything else between them that defied explanation.

Arthur didn’t ask for clarification. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear the answer. 

He settled for, “Well, whatever got into you, I’m grateful for it. That was fucking hot.”

Percival scooped up more of the fluid coating their stomachs and brought it up for Arthur to eat. “Even though you had to do what I wanted?”

If Percival hadn’t posed such a question, he would’ve let his eyes drift shut to truly savor the taste of their come. But he wasn’t willing to risk Percival missing how sincere he was. “Especially so.”

A slight catch in Percival’s breath, and as soon as he pulled his fingers out of Arthur’s mouth, he sealed their lips together again. “You go to my head,” he said between kisses. 

“Good.”

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.


	20. Chapter 20

If this had been the first time he’d had to wear a tuxedo, Percival might have let his nerves get the best of him. This was a date unlike any other he’d had in a very long time. This was out in public, in the face of society and the people who’d hire him, without the sex to fall back on as an easy excuse to justify being together. Arthur might be comfortable in that world, but Percival was still learning how to navigate the waters, no matter how brave a face he put on—or how hard he trapped Arthur against a door.

But the tux had been purchased specifically for a previous job, so donning it was the same as putting on a suit of armor. He could hold himself straighter, focus on the task at hand, and use the clothing as a means to hide if the situation spiraled beyond his control. He could stand in the lobby and wait for Arthur so they could be admitted together without looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. And he could return the smile of the man in question when he strolled up seeming completely relaxed, his tuxedo highlighting the breadth of his shoulders, the firm sculpture of his hips.

“I still wish you’d let me pick you up,” Arthur complained as they made their way to the security line at the entrance.

“I needed to get here early and watch the other guests arrive.” The defense had the benefit of being both true and a convenient way to hide his anxiety from Arthur a little while longer.

A smile played on Arthur’s mouth. “And here I thought it was because you didn’t want to risk not making it to the party at all once you saw how good I look in a tux.”

He couldn’t help it. The blatant self-admiration brought a bark of laughter to his lips, and he relaxed a fraction, though his gaze continued to sweep over the other waiting guests in search of Elena’s stepmother. “You never have to worry about your ego suffering, now do you?”

“It wouldn’t matter if I did.” His hand settled in the small of Percival’s back, guiding him forward as another couple stepped up to the security dais. “The way you looked at me when I arrived said it all.”

The heat in his cheeks was unavoidable, but he couldn’t deny what Arthur claimed. The man was delicious in all the best ways. Especially when he edged forward to speak to the security guard, allowing Percival a surreptitious glance at the curve of his ass.

“Arthur, you said?” the guard questioned, his fingers hovering on the keyboard of his computer.

Arthur chuckled. “You have more than one Pendragon on the guest list?”

“Yes, actually.” A tap of a couple keys. “The other Pendragon has already arrived.”

The change in Arthur’s body language was minute. Percival doubted the guard was even aware of it. But he saw the slight stiffening of the shoulders, the lift of Arthur’s chin, the careful turn of his head as he glanced toward the escalators leading up to the ballroom.

Another Pendragon. Arthur’s father was attending the party. He really wished he could be furious with Elena for failing to divulge that particular detail, but odds were good she hadn’t even known. And why should she think it was a big deal? Percival was dating his son, after all.

He suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. He was dating Uther Pendragon’s son. The heir apparent to one of the biggest companies in London. Uther was about to find that out along with the rest of London society.

Neither of them said a word as they passed through the security gate, though once they were on the escalator, Arthur shifted the angle of his body on the riser above him to speak directly to Percival.

“Do you want to meet him?” he asked.

_No. A thousand times no._

“Does he know about me?”

“Specifically? No. But he stopped asking about my private life years ago so that’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Then why don’t we play it by ear? We might not even see him. The party’s a large one.” He could only be so lucky.

They reached the top, and as they stepped off, Arthur caught Percival’s hand for a fleeting moment. “You might have to be here for Elena, but I’m here for you. Don’t forget that, all right?”

He squeezed once and then let Percival go, a smile ready as an older couple approached them to say hello. As Arthur made the introductions, Percival put on his best game face, shaking hands and murmuring greetings to best not embarrass either of them. He made a mental note of their names, something he did automatically whenever he was on the job, but before he could look around to find Elena and Merlin, more people were coming up to Arthur, more guests were eager to meet them.

Nobody seemed nonplussed by the fact that Arthur had arrived with a man, though a few of the older couples didn’t linger after introductions were made. Arthur did most of the talking, but he never made Percival feel left out, always touching him at the most natural moments, encouraging him to join in when the conversation steered in a direction he could manage.

Twenty minutes later, the world that had slowed to a crawl as he tried to get through each paralyzing second had smoothed out to its natural rhythms. He took an offered glass of champagne to hold—not to drink, regardless of whether he called it a date or not, he was still on the job—without his hand shaking. That was a success.

“There’s Elena.” Arthur nodded toward the stage, where the orchestra quietly accompanied the strains of the party. “Did you want to go talk to her?”

“I should let her know I’m here.”

Arthur’s smile was indulgence and approval, rolled into one. “Trust me. She knows. You’re rather hard to miss, even when there’s five hundred people surrounding you.”

His words referred to Percival’s height, but the look in his eyes seemed to refer to something else entirely. A pleased smile joined his embarrassed flush. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” Buoyed by Arthur’s confidence, he leaned down and murmured in Arthur’s ear, “It’s hard to remember I’m here for her when all I want to do is shove you to your knees and fuck that gorgeous mouth of yours.”

Just saying the words was enough to send a charge straight to his cock. He pulled away before letting Arthur respond and headed over to Elena without looking back. He wanted Arthur watching him, every step of the way.

* * *

Arthur had to give Percival credit for one thing. The man knew exactly how to time getting Arthur hard.

Though his cock was now trapped uncomfortably against his thigh, he didn’t dare adjust himself in the midst of so many people. The best he could do was angle away from the crowd and hope his arousal ebbed before somebody else approached him. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he watched Percival stride purposefully through the middle of the party rather than skirt the edges. Did Percival realize what he was doing? How bold a move it was? It didn’t look like it. He seemed completely unselfconscious, self-assured like he’d been at Elena’s gallery. 

Tonight was a job for him. Arthur was better off remembering that before his expectations ended up disappointing.

He could still fantasize about what might come later, though. The job ended when they left. It wasn’t unreasonable to expect sex at either his flat or Percival’s, especially given the fact that the tuxedo was an even better fit than the suit had been. Just the shape of Percival turned the heat up on Arthur’s desire for him. Whoever Percival had found as a tailor either knew his stuff or knew Percival’s body better than the man knew it himself.

Arthur chose to believe the former. The latter left an acid burn in the pit of his stomach at the thought of anybody else getting that intimate with Percival.

He didn’t understand Percival’s fears about being at the party, though. The shy man he’d met at Romp wasn’t here. Oh, sure, Percival was quiet when introduced, and he obviously didn’t know anybody, but when he did speak up, it was always with a reserved grace, saying exactly what needed to be said, surprising more than a few that he could actually string more than a few words together. Not everybody had to be the life of the party, and it was very likely Percival would never choose to be the center of attention. He could hold his own, though, and Arthur was more than pleased with how things had progressed so far.

“Arthur. What a surprise to see you here.”

This, however, was not a happy development.

The low modulations of Uther’s voice shattered Arthur’s reverie, and he turned to face his father with a polite smile. “Considering how many times I beg off social engagements with you, I imagine it is.”

Uther looked impeccable as always, his shrewd hazel eyes trying to see through Arthur’s façade. On his arm hung a statuesque brunette, who—if it was at all possible—seemed even haughtier than Uther. Her smile was brittle as she held a hand in greeting out to Arthur.

“The more you cancel, the more I get Uther to myself,” she said. “Catrina Damery.”

Her slim fingers were cold to the touch. A perfect match for his father. “My pleasure, Ms. Damery.”

“I don’t recall seeing your name on the guest list,” Uther mused.

“It was rather last minute. Elena only recently rung me up to ask me to attend.”

Uther cocked a brow. “Elena? I wasn’t aware you two were actually friends.”

“Then I guess we can both still surprise the other.” The last thing he was going to do was give Uther an explanation. It was none of his business, even if he thought otherwise.

“Did I see you arrive with someone?”

The petulant _of course, you did_ almost came out before Arthur could stop it. Uther never asked a question he didn’t already know the answer to, but responding to his deliberate provocation would do neither Percival nor Arthur any good.

“He went to say hello to Elena.” Which Uther had also known because Arthur had no doubt he’d timed his approach with Percival’s departure. “His business partner is her date.”

“Oh, you’re doubling? How quaint.”

Catrina tittered, but Arthur refused to break a smile. “Would you like to meet him?” Uther’s amused smirk froze in place, encouraging Arthur to barrel on. It might make Percival uncomfortable but better to face the introduction head-on rather than wait for Uther to blindside them later. “He's been following Pendragon Development for years. He probably knows more about our business deals than we do.”

Uther took a step back, dragging Catrina with him. “Oh, I’d hate to interrupt—”

“It's no problem. He knows you’re here. If you two didn’t meet, well…” He affected a rueful grimace, fully aware of the occasional glances being cast their way. “That would just be awkward, don’t you think?”

Uther was trapped and they both knew it. Arthur didn’t like the feeling of satisfaction that swept through him at cornering Uther like this, but he couldn’t deny it.

“Lead the way,” Uther said.

One thought surpassed everything else as Arthur wound a path through the party.

_Don’t hate me for doing this, Percival._

* * *

“—even my father told her—”

Merlin’s glancing touch on his forearm diverted Percival’s attention long enough to look down at him. Merlin nodded past Percival’s shoulder.

“Incoming.”

Percival turned, taking the half-step necessary to block Elena from her stepmother’s approach, only to stiffen when he saw Arthur instead. 

Arthur and his father, with a woman Percival didn’t recognize looking like she’d stepped into a mess the dog made.

Though there were similarities between father and son, Uther’s appearance in person confirmed Percival’s suspicion that Arthur took after his mother more. The senior Pendragon was taller and leaner, his hazel eyes more calculating. His narrow mouth was pinched into a reluctant smile, but one only needed to see the hardness of his gaze to understand it was made out of sheer necessity rather than any genuine emotion.

Arthur wore a smile, too, but his was sharp and twisted, the muscles twitching in his jaw from his barely contained feelings. He was furious. For a second, Percival thought the anger was directed at him, but then their eyes met, and the silent pleading there allayed some of his fears.

“Mr. Pendragon.” Elena slid to Percival’s side, her hand extended. She didn’t step forward to intercept, and whether she’d made it a conscious decision or not, her show of support helped bolster his nerves. “How good to see you again.”

“Elena. You’re as beautiful as ever.”

The way she tilted her head confirmed her disdain for such an obvious remark, and though she glanced briefly at Uther’s companion, she favored greeting Arthur instead. “I really was going to give Percival back, you know. You have to learn how to share him.”

Percival blushed at their teasing, though her teasing seemed to relax the set of Arthur’s shoulders. “I wanted to make sure these two met at some point.” He came up to Percival’s other side, one hand settling at the small of Percival’s back in a gesture of sheer ownership, the other motioning toward Uther. “Percival, this is my father, Uther Pendragon. Father, Percival Chance.”

Their eyes locked, their grips uniformly dry and firm. Percival gave him a small nod, determined not to be the first to buckle. For Arthur’s sake.

“I’m so glad we finally have the opportunity,” Uther said. “Arthur’s been remiss in not introducing us sooner.”

The intent was clear. By hinting Arthur was specifically keeping them apart, most likely because he was ashamed of their relationship, he was attempting to breed doubt in Percival’s trust. But even if Arthur hadn’t already explained his father’s discomfort with his sexuality, Percival wouldn’t have believed Uther. The man’s manipulations were blatant, and the potential respect Percival might have garnered for him sank.

“Arthur and I have busy enough schedules without trying to add more in,” Percival said smoothly. A business meeting with a hostile client. He had to think of it like that. The slight pressure of Arthur’s hand on his back helped tremendously. “And when we do get to meet up, sharing him with anyone is very low on my priorities.”

At Percival’s possessive comment, Elena bit her lip, while Arthur’s grin widened. Uther glared at him for a split second before composing himself again.

“Arthur says you’re familiar with my company. Are you in development as well?”

He could practically hear Arthur’s teeth clench at Uther’s possessive pronoun. Percival’s frustration on his behalf burned even hotter.

“No, but I’ve worked for a number of people well acquainted with you. Not to mention, your deals were practically required coursework while I was at uni.”

“Oh? And where did you go to school?”

This felt like a job interview. “LSE. Top honors in economics.” It wasn’t Cambridge or Oxford as most of the Pendragon echelon would have attended, but it was still a first tier school, especially with recruiters. Percival was proud of the education he’d worked hard for. It had gone a long way in making up for everything that had happened before.

Arthur seemed more impressed than Uther, casting a surprised look up at Percival. Pride was there, too, enough to set Percival’s cheeks alight again.

“So how did you two meet?”

His condescending attitude was almost enough for Percival to retort, “He’s got a blowjob mouth. You think I wouldn’t make a man as hot as he is suck me off?” But Arthur beat him to the answer. Far more diplomatically than Uther probably deserved.

“Through Gwaine.”

Uther scowled. “Oh, Arthur, haven’t you given up on him yet? He’s never going to be good for anything.”

“No offense, Mr. Pendragon, but I don’t think you know Gwaine as well as you think you do.”

Merlin’s sudden defense startled all of them, none more so than Uther. “Who are you?”

“Merlin Emrys. Percival’s business partner.” He, on the other hand, did not bother offering his hand in greeting. In fact, his hands were bunched into fists inside his pockets. 

“Clearly, you’re not aware of Gwaine’s rather…colorful history.”

“I’m aware of it. I also know it’s possible to rise above it.” Percival’s chest tightened. Merlin wasn’t about to use him as an example, was he? But then Merlin added, “Gwaine’s done that.”

Uther was unimpressed. “Gwaine’s greatest talent is subverting otherwise intelligent young men. I’m sorry if you’ve been so deluded.”

“Enough.” The lone word was a bullet between them, Arthur’s eyes flashing with barely suppressed anger. “These are my friends, Father. And you honestly wonder why I don’t bother introducing you to them more often?”

Uther’s mouth tightened. Father and son stared each other down, and Percival actually wondered if he’d have to stop them coming to blows. Uther eventually shifted to address Percival again.

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Chance. A word, Arthur.” He rested a hand on Catrina’s where she clung to his arm and eased it off. “I’ll be right back, darling.”

From the tightening of his hand against Percival’s back, Arthur didn’t want to leave, but Uther had eliminated any chance of that without making a scene. “Looks like you get my date for a little bit longer, Elena,” he joked, but his mouth was grim, his eyes dark.

Both men turned away. Percival stopped Arthur with a strong hand on his shoulder, leaning down to murmur in his ear. “Don’t let him goad you. It’s not worth it.”

He didn’t pull back in time. Arthur caught the back of his neck and brushed a kiss across his cheek before replying, “Yes, it really is.”

His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest as they walked away. Catrina slithered up next to him, watching the Pendragon men wind a path through the crowd.

“Well, I do have this to say for Arthur,” she said. “He has fantastic taste in men.”

Percival ignored the casual touch to his arm. For Arthur and Elena, he’d be civil. 

Because apparently, it was all worth it.

* * *

At least Uther had the decency not to start yelling until they were in the privacy of the men’s washroom—well, if the attendant didn’t count, which, considering he was a menial employee meant Uther didn’t even see him.

“What on this bloody earth were you thinking, Arthur?” he railed.

He could’ve been referring to anything. The entire introduction had been a joke. “About what?”

“That.” Uther waved in the general direction of the party. “You represent Pendragon Development, no matter where you are. Appearances must be kept up.”

“I’m not the one who resorted to the insults.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about…” He flustered, in search of a word, to settle on, “Your friend.”

“You mean my date.”

“I mean _him_. What you do behind closed doors is your business, but the moment you bring it out in the open, you make it _ours_ , Arthur. You know that. You either show up with a suitable companion, or you show up alone. Those are the rules.”

Sometimes, Arthur looked at Uther and didn’t recognize him at all. When he’d been younger, there was nothing he could do that would disparage him in Uther’s eyes. Nothing. All of that had changed when he’d come out, but he’d believed, more than he ever realized, that they’d finally moved onto a new stage of acceptance in their relationship.

Clearly, he’d been wrong.

“Let me get this straight,” he said, his tone like ice. “Your definition of suitable means it’s all right for you to show up at a major charity function with your latest gold-digging trollop on your arm, but I’m not permitted to appear in public with a man I have genuine feelings for?”

Uther grimaced. “Don’t be so vulgar.”

“Saying I care about Percival is hardly vulgar.” It was also an understatement, but Uther didn’t care about that. And because he’d pushed Arthur beyond his breaking point… “Vulgar is telling you how much I love the way I choke on his—”

“Arthur!” His voice shot through the opulent facilities, ringing off the walls in spite of their textured wallpaper and plush seats. He leveled a warning finger in Arthur’s direction. Once upon a time, Arthur would have been terrified of what might come next, but those days were long gone. “You will not speak to me in such a way, do you understand me?”

“I’d remind you not to speak to me like I’m an ignorant, misbehaving child, then. You want my respect? Only when you give me the same.” Arthur pulled himself straight. “Now I’m going back out to the party, and I’m going to apologize to my date for your fucking awful behavior, and because he’s the most decent man I know, he’ll likely excuse it away and give you the benefit of the doubt, even when you don’t deserve it.” He marched over to the door, hesitating with his hand on the knob. “You know, one of these days, you’re just going to have to accept who I am, Father. For your sake, I hope I still care enough at that point to appreciate it.”

He caught a glimpse of the stunned look on Uther’s face in the mirror before he exited the room. Once the door shut behind him, his anger unleashed in a violent tremor that wracked through his body, forcing him to lean against the wall for a moment to catch his breath.

He didn’t know if this fight would permanently damage his relationship with Uther or not. Right now, he didn’t care. 

He still had Percival. The better man.

And he was going to ensure Percival knew it from this moment on.


	21. Chapter 21

As far as jobs went, it might have been the easiest they had ever taken. Elena’s stepmother attempted twice to approach her, but both times, Percival intercepted and took her aside before a scene could be made. All four of them were together the first time it happened – after Uther had returned for Catrina, they had banded by silent agreement to endure the party together – so Merlin could both watch Percival work his magic, and Arthur witness it.

“He’s so good with her,” Elena commented wistfully. “She almost seems completely normal when she’s talking to him.”

“He doesn’t give himself nearly enough credit for dealing with people.” Arthur hadn’t taken his eyes off Percival for more than a moment or two since joining them again. Anyone with half a brain could see how he felt about Perc, though Merlin was pretty sure his best friend had no clue. “He was fantastic with the introductions I made.”

“Your stepmum falls into his comfort zone,” Merlin said. “That’s probably why it looks easy to you.”

She frowned. “His comfort zone?”

“Certain types he has less difficulty dealing with.” He nodded to where Percival was just letting Mrs. Anderson go. “Older women, for one.”

Arthur arched a brow in amusement. “Something I need to know about?”

Though Merlin laughed it off for the joke it was, his stomach flipped once at being put in the potential position of telling. “Let’s just say they’re not a threat.”

More laughter, and then Percival was back, and the party resumed its same casual note without another mention of Elena’s stepmother.

They stayed until the end of the party, though Mrs. Anderson left long before. Elena gave them permission to leave once there wasn’t any threat, but before Merlin could say anything, Percival stepped in and insisted to see the night through. “Just in case she decides to come back,” he said.

Personally, Merlin thought it had more to do with seeing Arthur in his tux than helping Elena, but he kept his mouth shut.

“When do you want me to write the report?” Percival asked Merlin as they headed for the escalators to the lobby.

“Please tell me you’re not going to tie him to a computer tonight,” Arthur said.

Merlin smiled. “No, we don’t need it any time soon. We just need something to go into our files…”

His smile faded, and his step faltered. There, leaning against the railing of the balcony overlooking the ground floor, was Gwaine.

He wasn’t dressed for the party. Faded jeans encased the long legs stretched out in front of him, and a beat-up black leather jacket fell open to reveal an equally aged concert T-shirt underneath. He smiled when he met Merlin’s eye, but there was something pensive in the cant of his mouth that sent butterflies fluttering through Merlin’s gut.

Percival and Arthur noticed him a moment later. Percival surprised both of them by grasping Arthur’s elbow and steering him straight for the escalator. “I’ll talk to you later about the report,” he shot over his shoulder.

Mute, Merlin nodded. He made it a few more steps before his feet stopped working, but the distance between him and Gwaine made it easier to keep the other man in the proper perspective.

“Well, bugger that,” Gwaine said, the smile still in place. “All my fantasies had you naked. Now I have to toss in a few with you in that scrumptious tux.”

Percival had told him to call Gwaine and apologize, but Merlin had yet to find the nerve to do it. He didn’t feel shame often – he didn’t make errors in judgment big enough to warrant it most of the time – but that was the only word to describe his feelings about how he’d treated Gwaine.

“I didn’t know you were invited.” In his effort to sound cool and collected, the daft question just slipped out.

“I wasn’t.”

“Did Percival call you?”

Gwaine cocked his head. “Does it matter?”

No, it really didn’t. If Percival had, he couldn’t blame him for the gesture. It wasn’t like Merlin hadn’t interfered in his love life before. The important thing was he finally had the chance to say what needed to be said, even if it scared the shit out of him.

“Did you have plans tonight?” he asked.

“That depends.”

“On?”

Gwaine only smiled.

Clearing his throat, Merlin ventured another step closer. “I’d like to talk.”

“All right.”

“I mean it. Just talk.”

“I believe you.” Gwaine straightened and jerked his head toward the escalator. “Lead the way.” As Merlin waited for the next crush of people to pass so they could begin the descent down, Gwaine came up behind him and rested a careful hand on his hip. “I’m all yours,” he murmured in Merlin’s ear. “Even when you just want to talk.”

He had to fight to catch his breath. It wasn’t just the closeness of Gwaine’s body and the way he so delicately molded to his back. It was the hope that maybe Merlin hadn’t mucked this completely up after all. 

“I’ll remember that,” he replied, matching Gwaine’s tone. 

Together, they waited patiently for an opening. After all, they had all night.

* * *

When they reached the street, Arthur pulled Percival away from the exiting guests, out of earshot of those waiting for their cars and taxis. “What are you doing this weekend? Do you have another job?”

The streetlights cast half of Percival’s face in shadows, making it impossible to see the expression in his eyes, but the curiosity in his voice more than made up for it. “No, nothing, why?”

“Because I need to get out of this fucking city, and I’d really like to take you with me.”

He didn’t need a lot of light to see the way Percival immediately beamed. “I’m in.”

Arthur let out the air he’d been holding on the off-chance Percival had turned him down. “All right. We’ll swing by my place so I can pack a bag, then—”

“Why don’t you go do that on your own? I’ll go back to my flat and have mine ready for you to pick me up.”

“It’s just as easy for me to run you there.”

Percival crowded him closer to the storefront, bracing a hand against the wall to cage him in. “Arthur, if we go back to your flat, odds are very good I’d have you stripped down with your cock in my mouth before we ever got to packing. So if you’re serious about wanting to get out of London—”

“Point taken.” Especially since he could feel the heat pouring off Percival’s body in waves. They’d spend the whole weekend in his bed otherwise, and while that wasn’t a bad thing in the slightest, Arthur didn’t want to do it here, where either one of them could potentially be interrupted. “How long do you need?”

An hour later, they were finally pulling away from Percival’s flat, headed toward the M20. Percival had to sit somewhat sideways to accommodate his long legs, but he was watching Arthur anyway, so the position seemed to suit him.

“Do I want to know why I needed to go back up for my passport?” he asked.

“Because we’re going to Calais.”

“Calais.”

“Yes, Calais. We’ve missed the last ferry, but we’ll be there in plenty of time for the first one in the morning.” He shot Percival a teasing grin. “You’ve heard of it, right?”

“Ha ha. You’re not fleeing the country because of what your father did tonight, did you? Because I told you it was all right. I understand his type very well.”

Arthur’s grip tightened on the wheel. “You shouldn’t have to. He behaved abominably.”

“You can’t be surprised, though. Not after what you’ve told me about him.”

He wished he could deny it. “I guess I’m just an optimist. I always want to believe the best of people.”

“That’s the surest way to be disappointed.”

“Aw, come on. You don’t really think that.”

“Honestly? I don’t know where you get the strength not to. In your business, you see some of the worst in people, and yet, you still held out hope your father would accept the fact that we’re seeing each other.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re anything like the blokes I usually see. Father’s not stupid. He should’ve been able to see for himself you were different.”

Percival fell silent at that, though that hadn’t been Arthur’s intention. He wasn’t going to take it back, though. Percival needed to get comfortable with the fact that Arthur was serious about this. He was not going to apologize for liking the man for more than the sex anymore.

“If you’re tired, it’ll take a couple hours to get to Dover,” Arthur said. “You’ll have plenty of time to take a nap.”

Percival shook his head. “I’ll just get all cramped up if I sleep like this. I’ll wait until we can stretch out on a bed.”

“You figured we’d be fucking in my bed, but I get you into a French one, and all you want to do is sleep?”

“You weren’t keeping me up for more than twenty-four hours then.”

He loved having Percival relaxed enough to banter like this. They’d had their share of regular conversations, but this had an intimacy those didn’t possess, like sharing secrets neither would divulge to others. It meant Percival was letting him in, or better, that he was coming out to join Arthur, and the prospect of what that might mean for a future they could have warmed him to his toes.

It was possible. A future with Percival. Something longer than a few months of dating. Arthur liked his space, but the thought of having Percival there to climb into bed with every night was intoxicating. Though it hadn’t seemed likely at the start, they simply fit, different shaped pieces that needed to interlock because the whole was greater than its individual parts.

Percival jabbed him sharply in the side.

“Hey!” Arthur twisted slightly to escape the poking. “What was that for?”

“I asked you a question.”

“What?”

“Did you tell Gwaine Merlin was going to be there tonight?”

“Oh, no. I called him after Merlin leapt to his defense with Father.”

“Why?”

He cast a curious glance sideways. “Because I thought he’d want to know.”

“Good.”

“If you’re happy about it, why ask?”

“Because I just wanted to know.” Percival sighed. “I told Merlin he needed to talk to Gwaine, but I don’t think he would’ve if Gwaine hadn’t shown up tonight.”

Arthur swore under his breath. “I hope that doesn’t mean he’s going to give Gwaine the brush-off. I’m really pulling for those two.”

“Maybe they’ll both surprise us.”

“Maybe.”

Percival let him concentrate on driving for a bit as he navigated onto the motorway. At this hour, it would be easy driving to Dover, but with a couple hours on the other side before they could get on the ferry, he had no reason to push it. It gave him more time with Percival, too. There was a lot he wanted to say. Like…

“You were fantastic tonight, by the way.”

A shrug. “Mrs. Anderson made it easy by listening to me instead of creating a scene. I’m glad for Elena’s sake it all went well.”

“I wasn’t actually talking about that, though that was pretty impressive, too.”

“Oh. Well…” 

If it hadn’t been too dark to tell, he would wager anything that Percival was blushing. He reached over and squeezed Percival’s hard thigh. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Believe me for a change. I don’t say things for the sake of hearing my own voice, you know.”

Percival snorted. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” he said in all seriousness. “But maybe if I believe in you enough, sooner or later you will, too.”

He debated adding more, like admitting how glad he was for this time with Percival, but decided against it. In some ways, Percival was as much of a wall as he presented physically. Immovable. Unbreakable. Battering him with constant compliments and observations contrary to how he saw himself would have little effect except place him even farther behind that barricade. Arthur had already learned that baby steps were the best way to affect change in Percival. Give him a little, then let him take the reins with the rest. Arthur had to curb his excitement about these revelations, no matter how much he believed Percival needed to know about them. 

Certain things, however, he wouldn’t hold back.

“So you know, as long as we’re dating, I’m not going to see anybody else.”

He thought he heard Percival’s sharp intake of breath, but over the car’s fans, he couldn’t be sure. “I hadn’t thought you were.”

“That’s not the point. My point is…” He looked at Percival to find him watching Arthur, intent, unblinking. “I’m not interested in fucking around.”

More than anything, he wanted to pull over and turn on the interior lights so he could see what the hell was going through Percival’s thoughts. Time seemed to slow to treacle as he waited for a reaction, anything at all.

“Me, neither,” came the soft response.

Arthur smiled. For now, those were his favorite two words in the entire English language.


	22. Chapter 22

_Leave it to Arthur not to take me to a hotel._

The house wasn’t actually in Calais, but instead farther along the E15, nestled on the far side of a small village he missed the name of because they passed through it so quickly. They’d arrived a couple hours before noon, but Percival was too stiff and bleary-eyed to note much more than it wasn’t what he expected. It lacked any of the sophisticated grandiosity of Arthur’s London flat, instead a long, unimposing brick building with dark wooden shutters at the multitude of windows. Inside, heavy beams offset the creamy walls, each room flowing into the next. A set of stairs led to a first floor Arthur only mentioned in passing. Both men were far more interested in the bedroom at the rear, collapsing onto the bed after pulling the curtains over the south-facing windows.

His prediction about sleeping came true. They managed to get out of their clothes to crawl beneath the blankets, Arthur turning onto his side to grab Percival’s arm and pull it around his waist. Percival buried his face in the back of Arthur’s neck, and with his body molded around Arthur’s, promptly nodded off.

When he woke up, his limbs had loosened, but he still held Arthur close, his erection nestled firmly against Arthur’s luscious ass. The slivers of light filtering around the edges of the curtains had shifted their angle, and he peered over Arthur’s shoulder to see the clock on the nightstand. Two-thirty. He’d managed almost five hours. From the languor of his muscles, they were all that he needed.

Normally, he’d get up and work out, get started on his day. The urge to rise was still there – he wasn’t someone who did well just laying about all day – but waking up with a warm body cradled against his, especially one possessed by a man who had a tendency to tumble his life into new and terrifying patterns, wasn’t something to be dismissed. He wanted to savor every second of this. To find out what Arthur was like when he woke up. To taste and absorb every degree of heat their flesh had generated being all tucked into each other beneath the blankets.

He wanted to fuck Arthur, plain and simple.

Brushing his lips along the slope of Arthur’s shoulder, he breathed in the musky scent of his skin, knowing it would be richer, more mouth-watering the farther down he got. He couldn’t have what he wanted, not here and now, but in these minutes as he waited for Arthur rise, he could fantasize about what it could be like.

Arthur, sprawled on the bed, one arm flung over the side, a knee bent as if even in sleep his body was getting ready to stand and start the day. Naked, of course. Sheets and duvet shoved down and out of the way. The tilt of his hips would expose his balls, though his cock would be trapped between belly and bed. Percival would start by dropping light kisses on the back of his thigh, the golden hairs getting crisper the closer he got to the warm crease of his ass.

He wouldn’t seek out Arthur’s hole with his mouth, though. He’d want to keep Arthur hovering on the brink of waking up, teasing him with touches and promises of what was to come, as long as possible. Instead, he’d lick across his balls, maybe sample the curve of a buttock before replacing the attention of his mouth with his fingers. Fingers already slick. The lube already warm from his own raised body temperature. Grazing up and down the crease as he watched the muscles ripple in Arthur’s back, an automatic reflex to the caresses over his ass.

He might not have taken it before, but Percival had no doubt Arthur would be an absolutely brilliant bottom. His was a body primed for pleasure. He reacted on levels Percival had never encountered before, inviting him to push Arthur even harder. Arthur would take Percival’s cock and love every second of it. He’d probably beg for more. Just like he did when Percival fucked his gorgeous mouth.

A shudder ran through him at the memory of that husky voice. He had to fight not to let the tremor radiate into Arthur and wake him up. 

He’d take his time with Arthur, easing into the hot cleft slowly until he stroked up and down over his opening. Every so often, he’d let his hand go too far forward and fondle Arthur’s heavy balls. The only thing better than rolling them between his fingers would be sucking them into his mouth, but that would happen other times when it wasn’t as imperative to get inside the man’s ass.

Arthur would shift, mostly asleep, but Percival would know by the way his legs parted a few more inches that at some level he was aware of what was going on. Welcoming it. Inviting him for more. Back to his hole, and the way it tensed when Percival circled it with a single fingertip, absorbing every crinkle of flesh as sensory memory until he’d know it anywhere, anywhen.

The only stretching he would get would be that same finger. Percival would press it in, the muscles clenching and sucking him as deep as he could go, and just hold it there, letting Arthur get used to it again. He wouldn’t need more. Not with as cockhungry as his Arthur got. And not with having been thoroughly fucked just a few hours earlier. In Percival’s fantasy, Percival had pounded both of them into exhaustion when they’d fallen into bed the night before. 

In Percival’s fantasy, he filled Arthur with load after load, goaded on by Arthur’s demands. After he was done, he’d eat his Arthur clean, then roll over for Arthur to do the same for him.

His cock throbbed. At home, he’d give himself a good wank to make it better. That shouldn’t be necessary here, not with a willing Arthur still in his arms, but he didn’t want to wake Arthur up before he was ready. They’d spent hours talking on the way here, and Arthur had done all the driving. He deserved rest more than Percival did an orgasm.

Except holding him like this was driving him crazy. A shower would do the trick. He’d wash off the trip and the night before, jerk off, then come back to bed until Arthur was ready to get up.

When he began to slide his arm out from where it was trapped beneath Arthur’s chest, however, Arthur groaned and tensed. “Where’re you going?” he mumbled, pulling Percival’s hand closer. “Too warm to get up.”

He’d seen a glimpse of this sleepy Arthur before, but he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of it. “Just going to take a shower.”

“No. Sleep.”

“I can’t. I’m already awake.”

“Don’t care.”

Percival smiled, all indulgence. “You go back to sleep. You won’t even notice I’m not here.”

Arthur blinked then, and rolled slightly onto his back to look up at him. “You’re the size of a bloody house. I think I’m going to notice if you’re not in my bed.”

“How about I make you some breakfast? I can have it waiting for you when you decide to get up.”

“Why’re you so bound and determined to get up?”

He wasn’t, not really, so it was pointless to keep arguing about it. With a shake of his head, he settled back down, wrapping Arthur in his arms yet again. “Go to sleep. Maybe you’ll be less of a prat when you’re better rested.”

Arthur grumbled good-naturedly, but burrowed back into the heat. “Finally get you where I want you, and you try and be a boy scout ‘bout it all. Should just throw away all your kit and…” He stopped, his body stilling at the same time. A moment later, he barked laughter and playfully elbowed Percival in the gut. “A shower, huh? Like I’m not going to notice that monstrosity trying to have its way with me?”

“You never had a problem with this monstrosity before.”

“Well, yeah, but now you’re trying to get rid of it before I get the chance to fully appreciate it.” As if to prove his point, he pushed his ass back against the prick in question, eliciting a hiss from Percival as new heat rushed through his veins. “Hands off. It’s all mine this weekend.”

It was all Arthur’s every other day, too, but Percival didn’t say that out loud. 

“Holding you like this while you sleep is not exactly easy, you know.”

“You’re the patient sort. This should be good practice.”

He didn’t sound so tired anymore, their conversation doing the trick to wake Arthur up. When he ground against Percival again, Percival paid him back by snaking a hand down to fist Arthur’s morning erection.

He dug his thumb nail into the wet slit as he squeezed. Hard.

Arthur gasped. He tried to arch to thrust into the hold, but Percival made it impossible. “No fair.”

“Any fairer than teasing me with your bare ass for the past four hours?”

“You could’ve slept with your pants on.”

“So could you.”

“I’m not the one jumping out of bed because I can’t take it.”

The image he evoked, even unintentionally, brought a growl to the back of Percival’s throat. He mouthed Arthur’s nape, trying to muffle the rising sounds of his desire, but by the way Arthur kept chuckling, he was unsuccessful.

“There’s a solution to both of our problems,” Arthur said.

He didn’t lift his head, licking along the prickly hairline. “What’s that?”

“Let me suck you off, and then we can go back to sleep.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to use a blowjob as a bribe to get me to stay in bed.”

“Like you wouldn’t get anything out of it.”

“What about you?” He rubbed the pre-come all around the velvety head, pushing Arthur’s foreskin out of his way. “We’ll do each other.”

“Maybe I’m not interested in a blowjob. Maybe I’d rather fuck you, instead.”

“I wouldn’t argue with that.”

“Why do I think you wouldn’t argue with anything that got you off and me out of bed?”

Percival smiled against his skin. “You’re getting to know me too well.”

Arthur surprised him with a strong twist, yanking out of Percival’s arms to roll around and face him directly. He lost the warm swelter of Arthur’s ass, but gained the burn in his eyes as he regarded Percival, the heavy weight of his cock nudging against Percival’s.

“Not nearly as much as I want to.”

In the blink of an eye, they went from playful to passionate, and all because of the unspoken intent behind Arthur’s words. Percival swallowed, then swallowed again because he couldn’t really breathe right, and locked down the sudden nerves that caused his hands to shake where he grasped Arthur’s hip.

“You seem to be doing just fine,” he managed to say.

“Maybe. I’ll do better with your help, though.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

A slow smile canted Arthur’s mouth. Without speaking, he leaned closer, tickling the corner of Percival’s lips with the tip of his tongue, then sliding it past the slight parting. Percival sucked him in, clamping his arms around his broad back with all the ferocity of the feelings he had to keep in check – the lust, the need, the swell of something deeper and far scarier than anything else he’d ever experienced. The best part of it all was how Arthur took it.

Willingly. Openly. Eagerly.

For all his protests, the last vestiges of sleep had been stripped away, leaving two hungry men coiled around each other on the bed. Percival’s leg caught Arthur’s between his, while Arthur grappled with Percival’s ass, cupping each cheek in hands that might have bruised on someone weaker. Sticky fluid smeared over their stomachs, hints of what was yet to come, today, tomorrow, as long as Percival could allow himself to stay. The desire to have Arthur ride him bareback was even greater than it had been before, even though there was no chance in hell he’d let Arthur do it without enough tests to make them both mad. 

But to feel those muscles squeezing around him without the barrier of a condom…to get the glide of his come as lube when he fucked Arthur a second time…to absorb all that heat Arthur promised every time they touched…it was enough to make him yearn for that day to come. Because when it did, it wouldn’t just be about the amazing sex they’d have. It’d be about a new level of trust, a level he’d never known with anyone before, not even Merlin.

Arthur bit at his jaw when the kiss ended, both of them panting heavily. “Did I mention I have a surprise for you?”

“I thought France was the surprise.”

“No, this was to give you the surprise.” He lifted his head so he could jerk his chin toward their bags in the corner. “Outside pocket. Go.”

Go? Was he kidding? Things were finally getting sweaty and interesting.

But Arthur had loosened his arms, giving Percival the space to slip out and stand. His erection bobbed in front of him, as mildly annoyed as Percival was about the interruption, but when he crouched down in front of the bag and began to root around inside, his mock irritation fled.

There were three of them, all of different sizes. Dildos of different lengths, different thicknesses, starting with a small one that wasn’t much bigger than Percival’s middle finger. It was a smooth plastic, while the next one up was silicone and softer, curved more like a cock would be but still very much artificial.

The third came closest to Percival’s, both in size and look. Heavily veined, with a flared head and balls to match. Arthur would feel every inch of it going in, just like he would when Percival finally fucked him. Percival’s ass clenched just looking at it.

“I ordered them a while ago,” Arthur said. He was sitting up in the bed, watching Percival pull them out, with his arms resting on his bent knees. The duvet pooled at his hips, but Percival was too drawn to the fresh color in Arthur’s face to linger much on his delectable chest. “I thought they’d be the easiest way to get ready for you. I kept meaning to use them, but then…” He shrugged. He almost seemed embarrassed.

“You want me to do it,” Percival finished for him.

“Seems only right, don’t you think? You’re the reason I want this in the first place.” His fingers had been interlaced, but now they fidgeted, his gaze ducking away. “I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of dreaming about you every bloody night and waking up so hard it hurts. I just…I want all of you, Perc. Here, there, doesn’t matter. But now we’ve finally got the time to do it right.”

He would have always taken the time to do it right for Arthur, but knowing how much the desire had been chipping away at his perfect resolve, how much it must’ve taken Arthur to do this after always being the one to top, adding onto the sledge hammer of his declaration in the car about exclusivity, broke the dam on the feelings Percival had been trying to contain.

He scrambled to rein them all in, but it was too late. They were out, and they were real, and they’d inevitably end up devastating him, but he just wasn’t strong enough to hold them off any longer.

He was never strong enough. Hadn’t he learned that lesson already?

Apparently not.

Because regardless of all his attempts to the contrary, Percival Chance loved Arthur Pendragon. This man in all his incarnations. Cockslut. Friend. Lover.

No matter what it might mean for Percival’s future.


	23. Chapter 23

Waiting for Percival’s reaction was killing Arthur. He’d been nervous enough about the dildos – they’d never discussed them, and frankly, not using them had been both a coward’s move as well as a stark desire for Percival to be the one to do it – and the longer Percival looked at him like that, unblinking, so solemn, the more convinced Arthur got he’d gone too far. He should’ve just broken them in himself and stopped being such a pansy about the whole thing. Percival wasn’t ready for him to be so bloody needy.

Arthur wasn’t sure he was prepared for losing so much more control, either.

Percival glanced down at the dildo in his hand, the largest of the three Arthur had ordered, the closest proximity he could find to what he’d end up taking from Percival. His thumb ran along a raised vein, so slowly and so delicately it brought shivers to Arthur’s spine. He cradled the heavy base against his palm, and Arthur clasped his hands tighter to keep from reaching beneath the blankets to do the same for his balls. He didn’t want his own hand anyway. He wanted Percival’s. If they ever got past this awkward moment.

“Lay back.” Percival uttered the soft command without looking up.

Arthur stretched his legs automatically to comply, only hesitating when his hands braced against the mattress at his side. “Are you finally conceding to going back to sleep?” Joking was the best way to hide his nerves.

Setting aside the largest dildo, Percival picked up the smallest and the lube that had been with them. “No. You’re not the only one who’s tired of waiting.”

When he stood, he seemed to consume the whole room. Bare. Breathtaking. Arthur fell back without another word of argument and held himself as still as possible as Percival approached the side of the bed. There wasn’t anything about him that wasn’t glorious. The flat nipples puckered tight, begging for Arthur to bite them. The muscles flexing beneath the unmarked skin as Percival fought for patience as much as Arthur did. The mouth, swollen from kisses, now softer than the firmer line it had been set in when Percival had found the toys in the first place. He even smiled when he rested his knee on the edge of the mattress and flipped the duvet off Arthur’s legs.

“Have you given any thought as to how you want this?”

He almost laughed. Sometimes it felt this was all he gave thought to these days. “On my back.”

A small line appeared between Percival’s brows. “But you know it’s easier if you’re on your hands and knees.”

“Who said I’m looking for easy?”

He thought he saw Percival’s hand shake for a moment, but when it touched Arthur’s knee to pull his legs apart, it was firm and steady. “The words of a true cockslut.”

Said with true affection and a hint of pride. Arthur should’ve bristled at the assessment, but from Percival, it sounded right.

The smallest of the dildos wasn’t daunting. Arthur had debated not bringing it at all. He’d had lovers with bigger fingers than that silly piece of plastic. But when Percival brought it up to his mouth and dragged the cool tip across Arthur’s bottom lip, he gasped at the contact, his heart stuttering at the feel of it.

“That’s it,” Percival coaxed. “Let’s get this nice and wet first.”

He eased it onto Arthur’s tongue. Immediately, Arthur sealed his lips, sucking at it hard enough to pull more of its length into his mouth. With his gaze locked on Percival, he wound his tongue around the toy as if it was a regular cock, turning it into as much of a show as he could. Would Percival make him suck off the other two? The middle one wouldn’t pose a problem, but the third wasn’t quite as flexible as Percival’s cock. That one would hurt trying to swallow.

He’d do it if Percival asked, though. He was in Percival’s hands, no matter what.

The burn in Percival’s eyes got brighter the harder Arthur worked the small dildo. “Fuck, but I love your mouth,” he murmured. Keeping his hold on the end of the toy, he traced the tight corners of Arthur’s lips, almost tickling from how faintly he touched. “I wish you could see yourself when I’ve got you stuffed with my cock. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so hot.”

He waited to respond until Percival pulled the dildo out. “Take vid next time.”

Percival’s brows shot up. “You’d let me do that?”

“Why not?”

In a bend so swift Arthur had no time to catch his breath, Percival fused their mouths together in a hard kiss, cupping Arthur’s nape to keep him from escaping. It was short and dirty, teeth scraping against teeth, catching on lips. Arthur lost any hope of his lungs working regularly again when Percival pulled back.

“Next time.”

Was that a promise or a suggestion? Even if he was inclined to ask, there was no time with Percival moving between his legs and dragging the tip of the dildo down Arthur’s crack.

Arthur tensed. “That doesn’t feel very wet.”

“It’s not. Relax.”

The plastic skimmed over his hole. Percival’s request was easier said than done.

Percival rested his free hand on Arthur’s lower abdomen, toying with the hair that trailed down to his cock. “I’m not going to hurt you. Nothing’s going in until everything’s perfect.”

“Define perfect.”

His mouth canted. “Are you fishing for another compliment?”

“It might help me relax.”

“It’ll fill your head with hot air so you float to the ceiling.”

“Oddly enough, I hear that’s remarkably relaxing.”

“I have a better idea.” Dropping the dildo to the blanket, he stretched out on his stomach and pushed Arthur’s legs up, high enough to force Arthur to catch and hold onto them, too. “Funny how I was just thinking of doing something very close to this.”

Every time Percival talked, his hot breath fanned over Arthur’s balls. His ass clenched at the fresh sensations. “Only close? How was it different?”

“I wasn’t eating your ass to get you ready for fucking. I was doing it after I’d already shot my load in you.”

Arthur shivered at the image Percival evoked, then whimpered at the drag of Percival’s tongue over his hole. His arms strained from how tightly he held onto his legs, closing his eyes to focus on what Percival was doing. Basic moves first. Long, wide swipes down his crack, up and down over his opening, without ever trying to breach its barrier. Occasionally, he’d catch the loose skin at the back of Arthur’s balls, but mostly, he concentrated on his deliberate licks, his fingers flexing beneath Arthur’s to massage the tense muscles in his thighs.

“How has nobody had this?” Percival murmured. He slid his hands away, dropping them to grasp each cheek. Using his thumbs, he spread them open until the skin stretched almost uncomfortably, until his hole had no choice but to concede the fight to remain impervious to his assault. “Oh, yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.”

More licks, these firmer, centering on the tiny ring. Arthur squirmed against each rake of Percival’s teeth, moaning when the tip of his tongue would slip through the muscle. He kept picturing Percival’s fantasy. He’d never done it himself – except for one drunken night early after he’d come out, he’d never been foolish enough not to use a condom – but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about it. He couldn’t think of a single gay man who’d never tasted his own come. And to eat it straight from a willing and well-fucked ass? His dick got harder just thinking about it.

Had Percival ever done it before?

How could he ask something like that without questioning Percival’s integrity about how safe he was? Because something told him Percival was as diligent as he was about suiting up, even when it wasn’t convenient.

“Such a good little slut.”

Arthur cried out at the feeling of the dildo slipping into his ass. In his musing, he’d relaxed enough for Percival to test his boundaries, and finding them down, press his advantage. It wasn’t long enough to go far, but Percival pushed it deep enough for his knuckles to graze over Arthur’s ass as he held it in place.

“You all right?”

Percival’s query came with a gentle hand resting on his knee, his gaze up and locked on Arthur’s as he waited for a response. Arthur blinked once, then let out his breath as he attempted to sort out everything he was feeling.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Good. Too fast?”

Arthur tightened his muscles, and though he felt his ass try to suck the dildo deeper, there was no soreness around his opening. “No. It’s fine.”

“I’m going to lube it up a little. I’ll hold it in place, but don’t push it out.”

Arthur nodded. It felt a little odd, actually. A pressure more than anything else. Like he had to go to the bathroom. Which, he realized a second later, was the unsexiest thing he could possibly think of at the moment. His cock had deflated a little in his analysis of what Percival had done. Now he understood why some guys he fucked went soft for a while after he was seated. They were thinking too much about what was happening, bracing against the pain instead of giving themselves over to it.

It wouldn’t be like that with Percival. Not only would Arthur be ready, but Percival wouldn’t be some piece of pussy toy, barely able to breach the outer ring. When Percival fucked him, Arthur was convinced he’d feel it all the way to the back of his throat.

In fact, he was counting on it.

Percival dribbled the lube onto the stretched opening, letting it coat the dildo and Arthur’s skin before setting it aside. He spread it around with his finger, and every time the tip of his fingernail caught on Arthur’s body, Arthur clenched.

“Do that when I’m fucking you, and you’re never going to get rid of me,” Percival said.

The husky desire in his voice was addictive. Blood went straight south again. But behind the need and compliment lurked fears Arthur was tired of seeing in someone who shouldn’t have them in the first place. Releasing his hold on one of his legs, he grabbed the back of Percival’s head and forced him to look up at him.

“I didn’t ask for exclusivity just to get your cock,” he said. “I have no plans of letting you go anywhere. Not for a long time.” _Not ever_ if he had his way, but Percival couldn’t hear that yet.

A glow came in those hazel eyes, better than the lusty burn, better than the dark command. Percival almost looked like he was going to say something, but the moment passed. He nodded once, then shook Arthur’s hand off like it was just an annoying gnat.

He traced around the edge of the dildo again, where the plastic met Arthur’s skin. His path was slicker this time, sliding more than scratching, until he rested the length of his finger parallel with the toy and eased it into Arthur’s channel alongside it. 

“Oh, fuck…” More than twice the fullness. As easy as the first had been, this one made him glad he’d bought the different sizes to get used to. Percival’s finger did more than compound the stretch. It added heat, it twitched, it pulsed with a life that Arthur felt every inch of the way. Percival wasn’t doing anything but laying his finger along the plastic and slowly twisting his wrist, but the graze of his knuckle along the inner wall was miles different from the smooth toy. A world apart in texture. In a different dimension when it came to the mingling pain and pleasure now suffusing Arthur’s body.

“Take out the dildo,” Arthur panted.

Percival stilled. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” He swallowed. “It just doesn’t compare to you. Use your fingers. As many as it makes you comfortable.”

Percival’s hesitation spoke volumes.

“Jesus, are you going to make me beg for it?” One of his heels came down, forcing his ass to clamp down on Percival’s hand. “The toy’s rubbish. We both know it. It can’t bend like you do, and you’d have to add your fingers anyway. So trust me when I tell you, you’ll be the second one in the room to know when it hurts.”

That earned him a nod. He eased the grip he’d held on Percival and sighed when both toy and finger slipped out, leaving him feeling oddly empty. When Percival climbed over his leg, however, he stiffened again, his arm shooting out to block Percival leaving.

“What’re you doing?”

Percival tossed the toy aside and picked up the lube. “You want me, we’re going to do this my way.” Quickly, he coated his hands, then stretched out until his head was level with Arthur’s hips. Catching the base of Arthur’s cock, he angled it up, a filament of pre-come glistening in the morning light where it strung from the tip to Arthur’s stomach, and sucked the head into his mouth.

Arthur bucked at the contact, driving more past Percival’s lips. Fisting the sheets, he was barely aware of the fingers returning to his ass or the slight burn that came when they probed past his opening. He only knew the wet swelter of Percival’s talented mouth and the return of the sense of fullness. That was enough. More than enough.

He tried not to thrash as Percival sucked him off. His prick was already sensitive from all the foreplay and the friction of tight lips sliding up and down his length made it more so. Few things beat morning blowjobs. The fact that it was Percival doing it just made it better.

The fullness at his ass never left. Percival didn’t fuck him with his fingers, no in and out like he’d expected or that he’d used on more than a few twinks. No, when Arthur concentrated on everything that wasn’t the amazing blowjob, he could feel the thickness inside him, not hurting which meant it had to only be a single finger but not moving either. He could feel it flexing, like Percival was crooking the digit or something, but that was it.

Was he this patient with all his lovers?

_No, not lover. Partners._ The thought of Percival calling anybody else by such an intimate appellation sent Arthur’s jealousy surging even higher.

“More,” he heard, and was stunned to realize it came from him. He would have repeated it if Percival hadn’t reacted right away, the heel of his hand pressing lightly against Arthur’s balls - _fuck, do that again, Perc, come on_ \- and without pulling out, somehow, some way managed to insert another finger.

This, he felt. His body seized, everything going inert, everything going hard as it all narrowed down to that single point of entry, the new thickness now embedded inside him. He tried to breathe, but his lungs had joined in on the game of statues the rest of him was playing, and he could only gulp for air that refused to go down as he tried to ride out the ache.

What had he been thinking? He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t wired this way. Out. He just wanted it out.

An arm slid beneath his shoulders, and then there was Percival, curling Arthur upward, into his chest, his lips ghosting over Arthur’s with his fingers still buried.

“Trust me,” he whispered. Each word was a kiss, followed by another at the corner of his mouth, and another at his jaw. “I promise I’d never hurt you, Arthur. I can make this feel absolutely brilliant if you just trust me.”

Arthur shuddered. Turning into the kisses was instinctive. Forcing his body to relax was not.

But Percival had been the one to make the request. He was only taking this next step because Arthur had asked for it. Give. Take. Balance. Release. 

It wasn’t giving up control like it felt. It was finding that equilibrium between them. He’d wanted this in places so deep they’d scared Arthur at first. It was time for his flesh to believe what the rest of him already seemed to understand.

He clung to Percival and threw himself into the kisses as readily as he tried to embrace the rest of his life. Percival’s tongue demanded responses he knew how to give, and gradually, the tension locking his body in place began to ease.

“Touch yourself,” Percival said.

He would’ve much rather Percival did it, but he complied anyway, squeezing his cock more tightly than he normally would. He began stroking, then felt an answering rhythm in Percival’s fingers as they thrust in and out of his ass. The burn was still there. He didn’t know if that ever went away. But twisted with it was the deep-seated pleasure of a hard body he adored rubbing against him, of his own hand working at his prick, of kisses that obliterated any more fear and sent him flying.

Then something else. Shocks that radiated from inside him, that made his balls tingle and electrified everything else.

He came with a muffled cry, shooting over his fingers, biting into Percival’s lip from the way his body convulsed. Percival tightened his arms, but instead of the pressure easing with his orgasm, it seemed to swell, stretching out his release into interminable seconds. He milked his cock longer than usual, come dripping from the blood-suffused head even when he thought his balls had to be drained dry.

Gradually, his strength melted away, leaving him no choice but to slump. Percival eased him back, stretching along with him, and pulled his hand free of Arthur’s ass. Arthur clenched once at the emptiness’s return and let out a long, shuddering breath.

“The real thing is going to kill me,” he panted.

Percival grinned. “The real thing will probably kill both of us.”

His eyelids were heavy. Coming had brought a lassitude his body couldn’t fight. “Two fingers are a lot more than I thought it would be.”

When Percival held up his hand, Arthur was slow to notice. “Three,” Percival said. He had the fingers in question held tightly together in a very familiar position. His entire hand glistened from the lube. “I started out with two since you took one and the dildo so well.”

Arthur chuckled. “That explains a lot.” He gave up trying to keep his eyes open. “Do I get to go back to sleep now?”

“Are you going to let me clean you up first?”

“I don’t think I could stop you.” Or that he wanted to.

Lips brushed across his temple. “Be right back.”

He was asleep before Percival returned. Lost in dreams of powerful arms and gentle smiles.


	24. Chapter 24

No matter how much Percival argued, Arthur insisted on cooking. “If I don’t cook, then I have to sit,” he said with a wicked grin. “And right now, I’m not sure my ass is ready for that.”

Personally, Percival thought his ass was more than ready, but he conceded the fight graciously. He was a guest. Arthur was stubborn. And sitting at the table while Arthur moved around the kitchen gave him carte blanche to watch the sore ass in question as much as he wanted.

It might have been only with his fingers, but having Arthur come undone in his arms as Percival fucked him had been the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. He refused to analyze whether or not his newly realized feelings for Arthur played a part in that and chose instead to focus on the sheer physical pleasure of the act.

The way Arthur had shuddered and gasped.

The slight sting when he’d bit Percival’s lip. A shock to the system in contrast to the kisses he thought he could drown in.

The smell of his sweat collecting in all the delicious nooks and crannies of his bodies. When he’d come back with the warm cloth to find Arthur already asleep, he’d stolen a taste or two while cleaning him up. His mouth still watered thinking about it.

Then the way he’d sagged against Percival, his strength fled, his trust so complete he hadn’t even blinked when Percival confessed he’d used three fingers instead of two.

Even though Arthur had been the one to ask for it, he’d anticipated the attack of nerves when he added the extra digit. For all his desires, Arthur lacked the experience to truly understand the aches and issues that came with getting fucked for the first time. The toys had been a fantastic idea, but for a man who had never even considered bottoming before, who took so much joy in topping, they weren’t enough.

Percival understood the panic. He’d been new once, too.

His grin wouldn’t go away. Even when Arthur had finally woken up and teased him about it, Percival had just wrestled him to the bed and shut him up by fucking his throat. Arthur had held onto his ass so tightly, he was already getting little bruises.

Unlike Arthur, he relished the way they felt when he sat down. It made him remember how bright Arthur’s eyes had been as he sucked him off, how hard he’d yanked to force Percival all the way down.

Arthur’s phone rang. Without breaking his rhythm where he stirred a pot of soup on the cooker, Arthur reached across the counter to pick it up. He took one glance at it, hit a button, then set it back down again.

“Not important?” Percival asked.

“Not as important as making sure our lunch doesn’t burn.”

It was actually more of a dinner, since it was approaching five, but considering Arthur had only been out of bed for a little over an hour, Percival was inclined to let him call it whatever he wanted.

“What time are we catching the ferry tomorrow?”

“Do you have a job on Monday?”

“Just that report I really need to do before Merlin rides me about it.”

Arthur shifted to stand sideways, so he could stir and face Percival at the same time. “I was thinking we’d take the last ferry on Monday. Give us an extra day here since we managed to sleep away half of this one.”

There was nothing wrong in spending more alone time together. Merlin would have to be patient for a change, especially since they’d mostly done the job for Elena as a favor than anything else.

“I like that plan.”

“Good.” Arthur smiled. “So do I.”

His phone rang again. This time, he ignored it.

Percival frowned. “You’re not going to get that?”

“I have no interest in what he might have to say.”

“Who?” It clicked a moment later. “Your father?” At Arthur’s half-hearted nod, he added, “Has it been him every time?”

He’d counted four different calls since Arthur had awoken, though it had rung at least twice while they’d been in bed. The most Arthur had done was check the caller. He hadn’t even bothered to listen to any voicemail if Uther was bothering to leave any.

“If it was about work, he’d call my assistant and make her get a hold of me,” Arthur explained. “Which means it’s about last night, and I’m done arguing with him about who I date.”

“You still have to work with him, though. Isn’t it better to get this sorted sooner rather than later?”

“Actually…” He turned the flame down beneath pan. “I’ve been thinking about what you said to me.”

“I’ve said a lot of things to you.”

“I’m talking about the Pendragon deals. About how you think Father’s not keeping up.” Except that wasn’t how he wanted Arthur to view it, especially given his current troubles. “Why didn’t you tell me you graduated from LSE?”

“Why should you care?”

“Because it’s about you, and who you are, and I thought we’d got to the point where that stuff mattered?” He waved it off. “Never mind. I’m not fussed about it. That’s not my point.”

“So what is your point?”

“I’ve been wondering if I should start branching out. Trying some solo deals, without Father’s interference.”

“I think that’s brilliant.”

“I’d like you to consult for me.”

Percival froze and gaped at him. “I think that’s a lot less brilliant.”

Turning the flame off completely, Arthur abandoned the soup to straddle the chair opposite him at the table. “Why? You clearly understand all the angles, and you offer a fresh viewpoint that I might miss. Frankly, I think I’d be an idiot if I let you wriggle away.”

“You’re biased because we’re seeing each other.”

“I like to call it a unique perspective.”

“And if a deal goes bad?” Percival shook his head. “It’s not worth jeopardizing what we’re building. This kind of business shouldn’t be personal.”

“You work with Merlin.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

He almost said, “Because I’m not in love with him,” which would be bad all around. The realization was too new, too raw, to expose yet – he wasn’t sure it was something he could ever expose actually. Only time would be able to tell. That, and whether he and Arthur had what it took to weather it.

“Merlin and I had been friends for years before we started the company,” he said. “We already knew how best to deal with the other. You and I don’t have that advantage, no matter how good we are together in bed.”

“So we start off with something small while we figure it out. If it doesn’t work, we’ll know, and neither one of us are out anything.”

“Unless we drive each other barmy and break up,” he tried to joke. But it didn’t feel like a joke, and he didn’t want the reason Arthur ultimately left to be something he handed to him on a silver platter. 

Arthur scoffed. “We’d hardly break up over a single deal.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I won’t let it happen.”

The way he said it, he made it sound like a done deal. Percival wanted to believe him. Fuck, did he want to. “Sometimes, things don’t happen the way we expect. No matter how prepared we think we are for it.”

A shrug. “Maybe. But I can control my own reactions, and I know for a fact you can control yours. If we go into it with our eyes wide open, then take it slow just like we’ve done everything else, how can it go wrong?”

Asking such a question felt like tempting fate. “I don’t know, Arthur. It feels risky.”

“It’s not.” He leaned forward, his arms folded on the back of the chair, his gaze bright and warm as it locked on Percival. “I wish you could see what I do. Because if you did, you wouldn’t be worried about failing. You might think you just protect people for a living, but I’ve seen the way you work. It’s about evaluating and assessing, seeing the details that others miss. Knowing when to back off and when you have to step in. Add that to my resources and experience, and I don’t see how we can possibly lose.”

When Arthur spoke like this, Percival forgot his fears. Charisma, passion, eloquence…he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was that lit Arthur up during these moments, but it was there, ready to forge ahead and battle whatever might come. Someday, he’d make an even greater leader in the business community than his father, because he was the sort of man other men wanted to follow.

Percival certainly did. He’d consider it an honor. And if Arthur was willing to take the gamble, Percival had to be there with him.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll try. But…” He held up a warning finger when Arthur’s satisfied grin threatened to erupt. “The first sign of it affecting you and me and I’m out. As much as I’d like to see you succeed, I want a ringside seat for it, not find out about it in the papers.”

“Fair enough.” He thrust his hand out, his eyes twinkling as he waited for Percival to shake on it. “I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”

It was impossible not to share that infectious enthusiasm. He smiled in spite of himself as his fingers engulfed Arthur’s. “I hope you do.”

* * *

They called it a draw.

When Percival walked into the office on Tuesday morning humming under his breath and saw Merlin doodling on a notepad with a silly grin on his face, he knew without having to be told that someone else had had a good weekend, too. Whether Merlin got laid or not, he didn’t have a clue. But by mutual silent agreement, the friends took one look at each other and decided not to ask any prying questions.

It was better that way. Percival couldn’t think of a single part of his long weekend with Arthur that didn’t give him a hard-on.

Each worked silently, if the fact that it took Percival five hours to compile a simple report could be called work at all. Merlin disappeared in the middle of it to take some calls, but when he returned just before one, he hopped up onto the corner of Percival’s desk and dropped a pile of pink slips onto the keyboard in front of him.

“You are about to be a very busy man,” he announced.

Percival picked up the pile, leaning back in his chair as he flipped through them. “What’s this about?”

“Elena. Seems she had a busy weekend, too.”

“Doing what?”

“Telling everybody how wonderful you are. Look.” He took one from the middle of the stack and put it on top for Percival to read. “The Permanent Secretary of the DfT. A close friend of Elena’s father. And look.” He grabbed another before Percival could catch all the details on the first. “Frank Roig, the footballer. Apparently, he’s married to the cousin of someone she went to school with. And—”

“Why did she call all these people?”

“Are you not listening to me? They all want to hire us. Every single one. Now, some of the jobs are tiny, granted, but these are very powerful people, Perc. The word of mouth from just one of these could get us set for the next year.”

He was stunned. He hadn’t taken the job on Friday for the exposure. Elena was a friend now. This went above and beyond anything he could have hoped for, anything he could have expected. He might have thought Arthur had put her up to it if he didn’t know for sure Arthur had been far too busy all weekend to even think about ringing Elena. Besides, it seemed like exactly the sort of thing she would do. Independent and fearless.

Merlin tipped his head to try and get a better look at Percival’s face. “I expected a little more enthusiasm than that. You’re not even trying there.”

“No, I’m excited,” he said. “I’m just…gobsmacked, I guess. All these changes all at once, they’re…” His voice faded. He hadn’t told Merlin yet about Arthur’s business proposal.

“You like being busy.”

“I do.”

“And I know you don’t like change, but really, it’s not anything we haven’t been doing all along. Just a bigger scale is all.”

He needed to say something. They had only just had this all out when they talked about what happened with Lance. Percival couldn’t be a hypocrite and keep this to himself.

“It’s not _all_ the same.” Carefully, he set the messages down, buying some time before he met Merlin’s waiting gaze. “Arthur made a proposition to me this weekend.”

At first, Merlin looked pleased, but he quickly caught onto Percival’s serious tone. “Something tells me this isn’t the sort of proposition that has to do with protecting him from assholes like his father.”

“Not quite.” Haltingly, he outlined the bare bones of what Arthur had suggested, keeping a close eye on how Merlin reacted. For his part, Merlin listened the entire time, never doing more than nodding or tilting his head. He ended with, “But if we’re too busy for me to take any of it on, just say the word. What we’ve built here, this comes first for me. It always will. Arthur will understand if it’s too much.” He had to, because Percival wasn’t going to abandon Merlin for anything. Or anyone.

“I know.” His smile said how mad he thought Percival was for even thinking he’d believe otherwise. “Are you ready for it? Not the business side,” he hastened to add. “I know you can handle that. You’ve always had a brilliant eye for those sorts of deals. But working with Arthur. What if you get up to your neck in a deal and something happens to the two of you?”

“I told Arthur I’d pull out of the deal if it looked like it was coming between us.”

“That’s good, but what if it’s not the deal? What if you just decide you’re done?”

Percival shook his head. “I won’t be the one who changes my mind.”

“Things change, Perc. People change.”

“I won’t.”

“Arthur could.”

He’d thought about that. The weekend had been amazing, and not just for the sex. They’d talked and laughed and played football and video games. They’d fallen asleep entwined in each other and somehow managed to squeeze into the small shower together to clean up. Then had to clean up again when Percival used the middle-sized toy to fuck Arthur to orgasm. The only time Arthur had fallen silent was on the ferry home, but Percival understood that kind of quiet. It was the time necessary to gather the wherewithal to return to their everyday lives. Leave the idyll behind. Face the reality of Uther’s disapproval, their hectic work schedules, a world that didn’t stop just because they wanted a few hours alone.

By the time Arthur had dropped him off at his flat, Percival knew his feelings for the other man were real. He knew how deeply they ran. That he’d found somebody he trusted enough to let go of a lot of the fears that had dictated his life for so long.

But he hadn’t said a word of them. Because he just couldn’t be the one to say the words first. He couldn’t take that final leap of faith. That ability had been stripped away from him, and he had to be grateful that at the very least he’d finally discovered how to love somebody again. That was the best he could do.

So everything rested on Arthur’s shoulders. Which was an awful burden to bear, especially since he didn’t think Arthur was even aware of it. He had to trust Arthur to make this work – he had to – but more than that…anything could happen.

Things could change.

Arthur could change.

“If that happens, then I deal with it.” He said it with more conviction than he felt because considering losing Arthur made him feel sick to his stomach. “We guarantee we’re not in so deep that we can’t back out at any point.”

Merlin frowned. “We?”

“I’m not doing this alone. We’re a team, and this affects both of us. I’m only going in if I’ve got you there to watch my back.”

“I don’t think that’s what Arthur wants.”

Percival smiled. “Sometimes, Arthur doesn’t realize what he wants until he’s got it. Trust me.”

* * *

When the voicemail ended, Arthur deleted it, his thumb sliding across his phone as he strode toward his office. After ignoring them for three days, they’d stacked up. Being onsite for the entire day hadn’t been conducive to going through them before now. He had exactly ninety minutes until he was supposed to meet Percival for dinner to discuss some of the new options Arthur was considering. That should be plenty of time to catch up on the calls and emails he’d neglected all day.

His assistant was already gone. When he’d called at lunch to talk about an update she’d made to his schedule, he’d told her to take off since he wouldn’t be in anyway. He’d meant that, too, until he’d realized he was better off leaving his laptop at the office. If he took it with him, he might try to work from home, and since he didn’t yet know Percival’s status for the next day, he wasn’t taking the chance of missing some time spent with him.

France had proven one thing for him. His life was better with Percival in it.

He frowned when he saw the light underneath his door. It wasn’t like his assistant to leave things on. When he pushed it open, however, his jaw clamped shut at the sight that greeted him.

Uther sat at his desk.

“Don’t you have your own office?” He’d managed to avoid talking to Uther since Friday. It was probably wishful thinking to hope that trend would continue.

“Don’t you have a phone that actually works?” Uther shot back.

Arthur sighed and shut the door behind him. “I’ve been in Stevenage all day. You knew that.”

“And this weekend? Where were you that you couldn’t return my calls then?”

“I got out of the city. I do get to take some time off once in a while, you know.”

Though he didn’t rise from Arthur’s chair, Uther tracked him as he came around the end of the desk. “Alone?”

He scowled. “No, with Dannii Minogue. Who do you think, Father?”

“I think you need to stop seeing that man.”

Well, at least he’d had the balls to come out and say it. “That’s not happening.”

“Arthur, be reasonable—”

“Oh, no, you don’t. I’ve been nothing but reasonable. You’re the one who’s got the hump about all this. If you’d just let me live my life the way I see fit, we’d get along brilliantly.”

“Except you’re doing a piss poor job of it. I swear, you do these things just to test me. Are you deliberately trying to force my hand here?”

The more Uther said, the less sense he made. “What are you talking about? Force your hand in what?”

“In firing you, of course. I don’t want to. Believe me. But your involvement with that man is going to ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for. If you insist on having your name linked with his, I’ll have no choice but to cut you loose.”

Of all the threats Uther had made, this one had to be the most desperate. Arthur would have felt sorry for the man, for all his closed-minded, outdated opinions, if it didn’t have such an impact on his own life.

“I’d be honored to have my name linked with Percival’s,” he said tightly. “He’s intelligent, hard-working, loyal. Even if we weren’t dating, I’d be impressed with him for everything he’s created, everything he’s done. It’s your refusal to accept the fact that I’m gay that’s making you blind to all the good he has to offer. So stop using him to try and turn me into something I’m not, Father, because it’s not going to happen.”

For a minute, Uther was silent. His gaze was heavy on Arthur, the kind of stare he’d given to him as a child that had forced apologies to his lips within seconds. Now, Arthur felt nothing but annoyance. He wasn’t going to back down from Uther. Not about this. Not about anything anymore.

“Everything he’s done, you say?” Uther dropped his hand to the desk, letting it rest atop a file folder. Without looking away from Arthur, he slid the folder toward him, then rose and headed for the door. “If you’re seen in public with him again, Arthur, I’ll do it. I’ll appoint Mattson to replace you. He won’t do nearly as good of a job, but at least I’ll know he has the interest of the company at heart, rather than his own.” He paused in the doorway. “The choice is yours.”

It wasn’t much of a choice at all. When the door shut quietly behind Uther, Arthur almost picked up his desk lamp to smash against the wall. This was too far. Uther had gone around the bend. Maybe if Arthur went to the board and spoke to them privately…

He glanced at the folder Uther had left behind. The last thing he wanted was to look at it, but clearly Uther thought it contained something important. With a shake of his head, he flipped open the cover, eyes narrowing when he caught Percival’s name on the top sheet of paper. 

His jaw hardened the more he read. 

Five minutes later, he sat down and read the whole report from cover to cover again.

Before he did a third pass through, he picked up his phone. He had a couple calls to make.


	25. Chapter 25

“Gwaine! I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight.”

“Well, it’s been full of surprises left and right then.”

“Oh?”

“You still at work?”

“Yeah.”

“Percival there?”

“Well, no. Why?”

A sigh. An unexpected shiver ran through Merlin.

“Because I’ve just spent the last hour verifying some police records, that’s why.”

He gripped the phone tighter. “For who?”

“Arthur.”

* * *

Percival made a mental note to thank whatever had prompted Arthur to change their venue of choice for dinner. Their original plans had been to meet up in Soho, on the hopes that an investor Arthur was friends with could stop by and meet Percival, but on the way to the train, Percival had answered a call from Arthur asking if he minded a private meal at his flat instead.

“Now why would I mind that?” Percival had teased.

Arthur hadn’t laughed, however. In fact, he sounded a little tense. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”

Eating at home was likely to allow Arthur the chance to vent about whatever had happened that day to stress him out. He hadn’t asked Percival about spending the night, but if that was what it took to distract him, Percival was more than happy to oblige.

Arthur answered the door almost as soon as Percival knocked, waving him in with quick hello. “Food’s about ready,” he said, leaving Percival to follow him in.

“You cooked?”

“Nothing fancy. Just a quick stir-fry. You want a beer?”

“Sure.”

Sitting in the lounge was too far away, so he wandered after Arthur and leaned against the counter. The smell of ginger and onion wafted from the cooker, and Arthur gave it a good toss before grabbing another beer from the refrigerator. When he passed it over, their fingers brushed, but Arthur pulled back and turned away rather than shooting Percival his usual smile.

Percival frowned. Something was off tonight.

He waited for Arthur to start talking – Arthur was almost always the one who started – but his attention was entirely on the food he was finishing up. Though he worked quickly, he held the spatula he was using to toss things in the pan a tad too tightly, a tension that was matched by the awkward set of his shoulders. Not knowing what had caused it made Percival feel helpless. Should he ask? If Arthur wanted him to know, he’d tell him, wouldn’t he?

He couldn’t do anything about it if he didn’t know what it was.

“Smells good,” he said, hoping that would break the ice.

“It’s one of the few things I can cook without ruining.”

“You seemed to do fine this weekend.”

Arthur glanced back at him as he moved the pan to a cold burner. “That’s because I made sure only to cook the stuff for you I knew wouldn’t end up in the bin.”

Percival grinned. That sounded more like the Arthur he knew. “You could’ve let me cook some.”

“We are not having this discussion again. You were my guest.”

“So does that mean if you spend the night with me, you’ll let me pamper you for a change?”

Was that a hesitation in Arthur’s arm as he reached for the plates? One blink, and then it was gone. “If that’s what it takes for you let me do this for you, sure.”

“We didn’t have to eat in at all, you know. If your friend couldn’t make it, we could’ve found someplace else to go.”

“No.” The certainty in his voice was unshakeable. “I wanted us in tonight.” Quickly, he dumped the chicken and veg on top of the waiting rice. “Grab some forks, will you? We’ll eat in the lounge.”

The silence followed them, and with each passing second, Percival grew more uncomfortable. Something was eating at Arthur, some wall was up that hadn’t been there before, and he had no clue how to deal with it. Arthur had always been the open one, the astute one, digging past Percival’s walls rather than the other way around. Percival had little experience doing it himself. He was much better at erecting the barriers that kept people away than figuring out how to get rid of them.

In his pocket, his phone vibrated against his thigh. He’d muted it when he’d arrived, unwilling to be interrupted, but with the both of them eating, maybe it wouldn’t be so rude to see who it was. He and Merlin had spent a good part of today meeting and talking to the various referrals Elena had sent their way. The fact that it could be any one of them was enough to at least check the caller.

He was just shifting to pull it out when Arthur spoke. “Father threatened to fire me tonight.”

Percival froze, phone call forgotten. “What? Why?” So this was what was bugging Arthur. But he was usually so cavalier about Uther’s attitude, even dismissing his constant calling over the weekend. He’d only got upset when… _fuck_. Now he wished he hadn’t asked the latter. He was afraid he already knew the answer.

Arthur pushed a piece of chicken around the top of the rice. “He claims our involvement will be detrimental to the company.”

“I’d never—”

“I know.” The sudden lift of Arthur’s gaze from his plate pinned Percival in place. His heart felt like it was going to explode. “But what I know about what kind of man you are, and what’s a matter of public record are two entirely different things.”

His heart gave up the battle. His stomach conceded, too. His entire body felt hollow as the past he’d tried to leave behind landed right between him and the future he always wanted. 

Any appetite for food fled. “What did he tell you?”

Arthur snorted. “He didn’t, actually. The big coward. He compiled a file for me to read, like you’re some business transaction we needed to research before investing in.”

That was actually worse. Percival had never seen the police reports himself, but he knew how many photos had been taken. Those would paint a much worse picture than Uther could ever manage.

He wasn’t even able to keep up the pretense of eating. Setting his plate down on the coffee table, he laced his fingers together and picked at a cuticle on his thumb rather than meeting Arthur’s eyes. “So why am I here? What do you want?”

“To understand,” he said without hesitation. “Tell me what happened.”

“You saw the records.”

“I saw the newspaper clippings, too, but that still doesn’t tell me what _happened_ , Perc.” The clatter of his plate next to Percival’s sent a jolt through Percival’s body, but he stiffened against it when Arthur leaned closer. “I can understand why you don’t want to talk about it, or even why you never brought it up before. But I need you to explain it to me, so I know I’m doing the right thing when I tell Father to fuck off.”

Percival’s head snapped up. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Because this time he’s gone too far.”

“But he’s your _father_. You can’t just walk away like that.”

“He’s not giving me any choice. The ultimatum he gave me—”

“—isn’t worth ruining your relationship with the only family you have,” Percival finished. If Arthur had read about everything that happened, surely he could see how that was true? “You’ll end up regretting it, and that’s something you’ll have to live with your entire life.”

“And if I cut you out of my life without getting to hear your side of the story? I’ll regret that, too. More, probably, because what we have? Is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Under other circumstances, even just an hour ago, he would have loved hearing Arthur make that kind of a confession. It was exactly the validation he needed to hold onto the faith in his own feelings. But not now. Not like this. Because Arthur was being forced to choose, and Percival had sworn on his life he’d never put another person into that situation.

“I can’t be part of that decision.” He rubbed at his knuckles, and though he knew in his head the skin there was unbroken, he could feel the sting of all the abrasions, the ache deep in his bones where several had snapped. One of his fingers was still crooked from taking too long to get set properly. “I just can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to make it for me,” Arthur argued. “I’m asking for more facts so I can make up my own mind.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, I’m not going to influence you one way or the other.”

Arthur stared at him, disbelief shining in his eyes. “You’d rather I think the absolute worst about you? About what you did?”

Percival didn’t blink. “It wouldn’t be any worse than what I think about it.”

Long seconds passed between them, time he felt to his marrow though everything inside had been whittled away. He’d known he couldn’t keep his past from Arthur forever. It wasn’t even like he was actively hiding it away. They simply never talked about it, and Arthur was polite and respectful enough not to press when the subject did come up. But that method of ignoring was the same that had ruled Percival’s life for the past decade, ever since the choices he’d made had stripped away everything he’d known and loved. Merlin knew, but that was because Merlin had become his second family, there when he needed him the most. Nobody else, or at least, nobody that mattered.

Until now. Until Arthur. Until he couldn’t bury his head in the sand any longer and pretend he wasn’t a menace when his temper was unleashed. 

Abruptly, Arthur rose from his seat and began pacing the length of the room. “You were just a kid—”

“I was fifteen.”

“A kid.”

“Did you see the photos?”

A pause. Then a reluctant, “Yes.”

Arthur’s back was to him when he uttered the single word, which saved Percival from seeing the disgust on his face. He used the picture his imagination came up with to summon the strength to ask, “Did I look like a kid to you?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you were a minor. A _teenager_. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Percival laughed. It rasped out of his throat. “Oh, I knew what I was doing. I even told whoever’d listen to me I’d do it again. Or was that not in the report?”

At the other end of the room, Arthur turned around to face him. “I refuse to believe someone who makes a living protecting other people could thrash someone as badly as that without having a very good reason.” He jabbed a finger at Percival. “That’s not you.”

“But that _was_ me.” He stood, because Arthur needed to face the reality, not the ideal he wanted to believe in. “I waited at his house, I jumped him when he got home, and I deliberately beat him up as thoroughly as I possibly could. All me, Arthur.” And even though it was a death knell to everything he’d hoped for, he added, “And I’d do it again. Except this time, I wouldn’t stop when he fell unconscious.”

The reaction was expected if heartbreaking to see. Arthur stiffened as if he’d been hit, his eyes widening for a moment before he caught himself. “But the charges were dismissed. It wasn’t even classified as grievous bodily harm.”

“A technicality. I broke his arm and turned him into a walking bruise.” The specter of that face, swollen and discolored when he’d charged into the Chance house after getting dismissed from Casualty, rose before his mind’s eye. Half the Council estate had heard the shouts, his mother’s pleas, his little brother’s screaming for Percival not to go when he couldn’t do as his mum begged and keep his hands off the son of a bitch again. He swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat at the memory. “But you knew that. You saw the pictures. You read the report. You don’t really need me to rehash it all, do you?”

From the look on Arthur’s face, he did, but Percival wasn’t going to indulge him. With a shake of his head, he stepped around the coffee table.

Arthur leapt forward. “Where are you going? We’re not done here.”

He didn’t stop. “Yes, we are. I’m not going to be a part of this ultimatum, and there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind.”

“What about us? Are you saying that’s nothing?”

_Is there even an us anymore?_ He was grateful his back was to Arthur, that he couldn’t see the sudden shine of tears in his eyes. Percival blinked away the sting and pulled open the door.

“You’re not nothing to me,” he said. “But I can’t tell you what I think you want to hear. I’m sorry.”

He slipped out before Arthur could stop him, practically running for the stairs.

He was still running when he hit the street.

* * *

Arthur stared at the empty space Percival had only just filled. What the hell had happened here? He’d never seen Percival look so terrified and so distant before, not even that first night at Romp. What had happened was awful and tragic, yeah, but it certainly didn’t merit the reaction he’d got.

Once Gwaine had confirmed the legitimacy of Uther’s report, Arthur’s only goal was to hear Percival’s side of the story. He didn’t even expect Percival to necessarily come off well in it. Teenaged boys, especially those already dealing with issues like homosexuality, were some of the most volatile people on the planet. They made bad choices. Arthur knew that. All he wanted was to understand what had happened to this man that was quickly becoming the most important thing in his world. Yes, part of it was because of Uther, but an even bigger part was because he knew without being told that the history spelled out in black and white in the file defined a lot of who Percival Chance was today, for better or worse. If he could know that, he was convinced he’d have the tools necessary to break through the final walls Percival kept between them.

Instead, he’d somehow managed to drive Percival even farther away.

He threw the food into the bin, the fork scraping viciously across the plates. He wanted to chase after Percival, but the gesture would be useless. This was worse than when Percival had realized who he was. No wonder he’d run scared. It wasn’t just that a Pendragon had connections he could only dream of. A Pendragon also had the means to root out a past he was trying to move away from.

Just not the Pendragon he’d expected to do it.

“Fuck,” Arthur muttered. His head was killing him. Gripping the edge of the counter, he bent forward and closed his eyes, sucking in long, hard breaths. How did he fix this? _Could_ he fix this? He had to. Somehow.

He had to.

Percival’s history hadn’t scared him. Seeing the photos of the battered man who’d filed the assault charges on the fifteen-year-old version of Percival Chance hadn’t scared him. Reading the details of the very one-sided fight hadn’t scared him, either.

Seeing the last section of Uther’s report, with the newspaper clippings about the deaths of Jane Chance, age thirty-two, and Torrence Chance, age eight, two of the four victims of a questionable house fire… _that_ had fucking terrified him.

He’d known Percival didn’t have family other than Merlin. He simply hadn’t known why.

He still didn’t have the whole picture, but he refused to believe the vague suggestions in the papers that Percival had somehow been involved. His Percival was too loyal, too protective to allow any harm to befall those he loved.

Maybe now it was Arthur’s turn to protect him. From memories that clearly laid far too much claim on Percival’s wellbeing. 

He had to fix this.

He had to.


	26. Chapter 26

When a dozen calls to Percival failed to get anything but voicemail, Merlin tried Arthur. He wasn’t sure if the fact that he answered on the first ring was a good or bad thing.

“I was looking for Percival, actually,” he said in response to Arthur’s rushed greeting. “You two had dinner plans, right?”

Arthur sighed, long and drawn out. He sounded exhausted. “Sorry, Merlin, he’s left already.”

He glanced at the time. Percival hadn’t been gone long enough to actually consume a meal. His eyes suddenly ached, and he rubbed at them as he tried to think of what to do next. “He didn’t happen to say where he was going, did he?”

“I think the objective was as far as possible from me.”

A confrontation, then. And Percival had left. Because when it came to his personal life, Percival had trained himself to retreat rather than attack.

Sometimes he wished his best friend wasn’t nearly so disciplined.

“Okay, well, thanks,” he said, ready to disconnect.

“Wait.”

“What?”

“If you find him, tell him to call me, please? We’re not done.”

“I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to.”

Arthur snorted. “You’re the only one who can.”

“You were doing a pretty good job there yourself for a while,” Merlin said. “I’ve never seen Percival so happy before. Ever.”

“Well, I went and buggered that up, didn’t I?” His disgust with himself was obvious. Merlin’s fears that Arthur had taken the reports the wrong way began to disintegrate. Gwaine hadn’t known Arthur’s plans, but Merlin had dismissed his claims that everything would work out one way or another. There might be hope after all.

“Did you break up with him?”

“What? No! That’s the last thing I want.”

“Did he break up with you?”

A pause this time. Uncertainty. His hope grew stronger.

“I don’t know what exactly happened,” Arthur admitted. “He won’t talk about it, which I get, I do, he wants to let it all go—”

“Except he can’t.” Percival would be less than thrilled to hear Merlin discussing his private life like this, but as far as he was concerned, these were extenuating circumstances. “He’s tried. Believe me, he’s tried. But it’s all still there. It’s all part of who he is now.”

“So what do I do? I can’t lose him, Merlin. I know he’s not that kid anymore, but he won’t listen to me.”

“But he is.” Glimmers of what might have transpired between them began to peek through the darkness. “That’s the thing. He’d still do whatever it takes to protect the people he cares about.”

“What he does for your company is something entirely different.”

“Not really. But that’s not even what I’m talking about. You’ve seen him. You’ve got to know he’d go to hell and back for someone important to him. And for Perc, well, hell’s a lot darker place than I think either one of us has ever seen.”

From Arthur’s ensuing silence, he knew he’d at least got him thinking. Nobody had ever been as attuned to Percival as Arthur before, but that didn’t mean the road was a clear one. Their relationship was new, and both men were still learning about the other. The fact that Arthur had been broadsided by the truth of Percival’s history was proof of that.

But there was hope. He could see that now. Arthur was prepared to fight, even if he didn’t know exactly how. Percival needed that. He needed to see that he was worth fighting for.

“He’s lucky to have you. I don’t know…every time I think of him losing his family like that…”

The genuine ache in Arthur’s voice brought a sad smile to Merlin’s face. “I think he’s lucky to have both of us,” he said gently. “Don’t give up on him. He’s worth it. I promise.”

“I know he is.”

“I’ll pass your message along when I talk to him.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Arthur?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for understanding.”

A low grunt. “If I really understood, we wouldn’t be in this mess, but…yeah.”

He wasn’t any less worried about Percival when he hung up, but at least he didn’t fear the worst anymore. Though he tried ringing one more time, it went straight to voicemail.

Where would Percival go? Only three options presented themselves.

The office. But Merlin was there, and he wasn’t, so scratch that.

To work out. A possibility. He often used physical exercise as a means of escape.

Home. Another possibility. Probably the more likely of the two he had. His haven from all the elements of the world he couldn’t control, and hideaway from the ones he chose not to.

Merlin couldn’t be in two places at once, though. He would hate to miss Percival at the gym because he chose to check the flat first.

Another phone call was in order. This one, he knew would pick up.

* * *

Percival slumped on the settee, his eyes slightly glazed from staring at the TV for so long. His fingers flew automatically over the controller, his maneuvers on the virtual race track simple and mind-numbing. Sleep would make morning come faster, but he was nowhere near ready to try that. He needed his body to shut down completely. No dreams. No waiting in the darkness for exhaustion to win. If he didn’t, he’d be stuck in his head. And replaying the night’s events hurt too much, even if it was inevitable.

A sharp knock at the door startled him enough to send his car crashing into the trees at the side of the track. Clenching his jaw, he threw his now crumpled vehicle into reverse. He didn’t want company. The numerous calls from Merlin he’d ignored should have made that loud and clear.

Another knock came as he crossed the finish line. This time, it didn’t stop. It continued as he scrolled through for another race, and then shifted into the bass line of “Poker Face” as he selected a new car. It wasn’t Merlin. He wouldn’t be nearly so annoying. A neighbor, perhaps, which meant Percival should at least see what they wanted.

Pausing the game, he tossed the controller aside and rose to answer. The knocking stopped only when he pulled the door open.

“Thank god.” Gwaine shook out his hand as he brushed past Percival to stroll into the flat as if it was his. “I was not looking forward to tapping out ‘Another One Bites the Dust.’”

The last person he wanted in his flat was Gwaine, but he couldn’t trust the other man not to make a scene if he tried to kick him out. “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you, actually.” He stopped in front of the television, tilting his head as he regarded the frozen image. “Been a bit too busy to answer your phone?”

So Merlin had sent him rather than Arthur. Swallowing down the disappointment he hated himself for feeling, Percival shut the door, wishing he didn’t worry so much about what the neighbors might say if he threw Gwaine out with all the bang that would come with it. “Tell Merlin I’m fine.”

Gwaine flicked a quick glance back in his direction, then cocked a brow in disagreement. “Yeah, I can see that.”

He didn’t have the energy to deal with Gwaine tonight. So he folded his arms over his chest, stood by the door, and waited in silence.

Gwaine took his time wandering about. His interest in the video game vanished, and he stepped around the settee to get a closer look at the bookshelves against the wall. He pulled out one or two of the titles but put them back after only a quick thumbthrough. The same with the DVDs, though Percival thought he caught a glimpse of a smile when he turned over one of his Eastwood movies.

When he found his way into the kitchen, Percival bunched his hands into fists to stand his ground and not follow in to drag him out. Patience was the game with Gwaine. He might not have respect for Percival’s boundaries, but he dug his heels in when told he couldn’t test them.

He emerged without having bothered turning on the light. What he thought he was doing, Percival had no idea.

“Are you about done?” Percival asked.

“Depends.”

Percival kept quiet.

“Your relationship with Arthur isn’t any of my business.”

“Well, at least we agree on something.”

“On the other hand, Arthur is.” Gwaine grimaced. “It’s a bit of a muddle, don’t you think?”

“Not really.”

Gwaine was unfazed by his icy distance. “So this is my predicament. You’ve got two people I care about all worked up, but frankly, I don’t give a fuck about what you did ten years ago. I mean, we’ve all got pasts, right? I’m certainly not one to judge.”

The indirect confession that he was serious about Merlin threw Percival mildly off-guard. It was a reminder of how entangled their lives had really become, all the times he’d interfered with Gwaine, how Arthur had helped as well. He couldn’t begrudge any of them, and yet, he wished in this one instance, they could just leave well enough alone.

“Uther seems to give a fuck,” he commented.

“Uther’s a prick who doesn’t realize what a dinosaur he’s become.” He winked, drawing him in to share the conspiracy. “But you knew that. You wouldn’t have agreed to Arthur’s little business venture if you didn’t.”

“I’m sure you’ll be getting to some kind of point sooner or later.”

“My point is, Arthur could care less about Uther’s ultimatum. It’s the same takeaway game he’s always played, only on a different day.”

Percival frowned. “What takeaway game?”

“You know. He takes away Arthur’s house, to see how Arthur stays off the streets. He takes away Arthur’s money, to see how he pays his bills. He takes away Arthur’s boyf—”

“Stop.” He did not want to hear himself referred to as the boyfriend. That would make all of this even harder to walk away from intact.

Gwaine shrugged. “But you get the idea. Now, you and me would see through that power play shit right away, but Arthur, well…” A wistful smile curved his mouth. “Arthur’s not like us. Once he trusts someone, he does so all the way to the bitter end, whether they deserve it or not. And somehow, some way, he keeps finding ways to forgive Uther, no matter how far he goes.”

“They’re family. He _should_ forgive him.”

“I might agree with that if Uther held Arthur in the same regard. But he doesn’t. For Uther, that company of his comes first. The choices he makes? Always in favor of the business. Arthur’s second to that.” He paused, letting his words sink in before adding, “He always will be, regardless of what Arthur decides to do with this latest fight.”

Percival had seen hints of that firsthand, but he’d excused them all as symptoms of Uther’s homophobia. But Gwaine’s version made sense. Too much sense. The only part he had wrong was that Percival wanted to trust in Uther, too. For Arthur’s sake.

Gwaine regarded him steadily as they both stood there, weighing what had passed between them. After a minute, he nodded and headed for the door of his own volition.

“I’ll let Merlin know you’re all right for now,” he said, then stopped with one hand on the doorknob. “But one word of advice.”

“What’s that?”

His direct gaze brooked no more arguments. “Don’t play Uther’s game. Everybody loses.”

When he swept out of the room as blithely as he’d entered it, Percival was left behind, his chest clenching at the comparison Gwaine had made. He hadn’t perceived his actions like that, though he supposed that had been Gwaine’s tactic all along. But what Gwaine asked was impossible. He couldn’t be any part of the reason Arthur chose.

_I am already._

A hard truth to face, because it meant he was doing the exact same thing to Arthur his father did. He’d taken away the man’s ability to have an informed opinion by deliberately withholding details that would put the facts into perspective. He’d stepped back to see what Arthur would do.

Something told him that if he attempted to make amends without actually conceding, Arthur would forgive him, too. Even though he didn’t deserve it.

He’d be no better than Uther.

But unlike Uther, he wanted his love for Arthur to be more selfless than that.

Not everybody had to lose.


	27. Chapter 27

Percival stirred. His neck twinged from the awkward position he’d dozed off in on the settee, and something hard jabbed into his hip. He fumbled to move it and curled his fingers around the game controller. 

Ah. He’d fallen asleep while he was playing. The TV had darkened slightly as the controller had turned itself off after not being used for too long.

So why had he woken up?

A scratching at the door shifted his attention away. Someone was turning a key in the lock from the other side.

“Go away, Merlin,” Percival called out, groaning as he sat up and his back cracked. “I’m fine.”

The door opened. When Arthur was the one to step inside, Percival froze.

“Sorry.” Arthur held up Merlin’s spare key. “I wouldn’t let him alone until he gave it to me.”

His aches were forgotten, but his voice refused to work properly, too. He could only watch as Arthur shut the door quietly behind him and came around the couch.

He looked tired. Dressed in a baggy navy T-shirt and gray sweats slung low on his hips, he could’ve just rolled out of bed for as rumpled as he was. His hair was messed up, like he couldn’t be bothered with a comb, and his eyes, glowing slightly from the reflection off the telly, were somber. In his hand hung a carrier bag, weighted down with something thin and squarish.

“You look about as good as I feel,” Arthur said with a wry twist of his mouth.

“The settee is too short for me to get comfortable.” His cheeks flamed from how inane that sounded, but if Arthur noticed, he didn’t comment.

“Beds are better for sleeping anyway.”

“Sometimes.” When he wasn’t alone. Or specifically, when Arthur was with him, but he couldn’t count on that until the air was cleared between them at the very least.

Arthur tossed the spare key onto the coffee table. “You walked out.”

His heart chose that moment to start working again, making up for lost time by lurching against his ribs in triple-time. “I—”

“Don’t. You’re going to hear me out first. You wouldn’t stick around before to do it, but I’m not letting you run away and do this at your pace like I usually do. Not this time.”

He took a breath to argue, then clamped his lips shut again to nod instead. He owed Arthur a turn, especially since Arthur had given him more than ample opportunities back.

Arthur held out the bag, clearly meaning for Percival to take it. He did so, albeit reluctantly, but held it across his lap until Arthur gestured toward it.

“It’s yours,” he said. “Consider it proof.”

He pulled out a paper-wrapped rectangular package, a foot long and several inches deep. “Of what?”

“That you’re not just some fuckbuddy.” Arthur sank onto the other end of the couch, though he sat sideways with his knee bent so he could face Percival. “That you’ve never been just some fuckbuddy.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t. If you didn’t think it on some level, we probably wouldn’t be doing this right now.”

His hand trembled a little as he slid a finger underneath the loose tape sealing one end. Slowly, he peeled it away, glancing constantly back to Arthur as he opened it up. When it was completely bared, however, he could do nothing but stare at the object in his hands.

It was Elena’s sunset painting, the miniature oil that hadn’t sold from her show, his favorite of all she’d done. The simple frame balanced the vibrant colors she’d managed to capture, reminding him of that day and the hours he’d spent staring at it, wondering if it was possible for any real place in the world to be that serene.

“I had a bugger of a time buying it from Elena,” Arthur commented. “She kept turning me down, insisting that she was going to give it to you as a gift. We must have exchanged a dozen calls before I finally got her to agree, and even then, she only sold it to me because I promised you’d still be the one to have it.”

His memories flooded with the images of Elena scrolling through her phone the lunch she’d asked him to the party, how jealous he’d been that she and Arthur had been in contact, how possessive he’d felt toward Arthur even then. It explained why she’d had his number, and why she’d been so sure Arthur was a suitable fit for his date. All this time, he’d let that annoyance nibble at his already scanty security in their relationship, when it had always been about the painting. A present for Percival.

He looked up to see Arthur watching, waiting for his reaction. “Why?” Nothing else mattered.

“Because you loved it. I was going to hold onto it and give it to you for a birthday, or Christmas, or something big like that, but, well, the chance that we might not even get to your birthday or Christmas is about as big as it gets, I figure.”

His fingers traced along the edge of the frame. As long as he was touching it, it was real. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” His fears about Arthur forgiving him were being founded if the fervent look on his face was anything to go by. “I just need you to believe that I’m in this for more than the sex. I’m in this for _you_ , and if that means trudging through whatever mud my father wants to sling our way, then so be it.”

Percival believed him. There was too much evidence to back him up – the painting, the careful way he’d approached letting Percival know he was aware of his history, the refusal to let Percival hide and allow the argument to fester. By all rights, he should have been back at his flat, asleep in his bed, preparing to face another day, but instead, he’d finagled the key from Merlin and traipsed across the city to make the case Percival hadn’t been willing to listen to before.

Carefully, he rested the painting on the coffee table and stood. Arthur immediately stiffened.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t answer. His trip was a short one, to the end of the bookshelves and the small cupboard on its lowest shelf. Crouching down, he shoved aside the books that were stacked up in the front of it to reach to the back for a small leather album. Though it had been stored since he’d moved into the flat, it had a thin veneer of dust from being ignored for so long.

He wiped it off on his sweats before flipping it open. Thumbing past the first few pages, he settled on a small photograph that had been taken at a barbecue the summer he turned fifteen.

“That’s me and my family,” he said, handing the album over to Arthur. He pointed to each one as he named them. “My mum. My little brother Tor. Me.”

Arthur smiled. “You obviously weren’t the object of a surprise growth spurt.”

“No, I was always the biggest kid in my class.”

“Where’s your dad?”

“He left us after Tor was born. Mum always said…we were better off.”

At his halting delivery, Arthur looked up. His pleased smile at seeing the younger Percival faded. “You don’t have to do this. This isn’t why I’m here.”

“Yes, I do.” He hadn’t looked at the pictures in years, and his stomach hurt just thinking about what the album held, but he’d made a decision in the aftermath of Gwaine’s visit, one that had been cemented by Arthur’s arrival and his amazing gift. “You don’t have all the facts.”

“I don’t need them.”

“You do.” He turned the page. Another photo from the barbecue. “That’s me and Chris. He was…” Boyfriend? Fuck partner? No, he had to be honest about it all here. “…the first guy I ever really loved.”

The picture didn’t do him justice. The sun was in their eyes, so his squinting against the brightness hid the sparkle in their black depths, that gleam of mischief that had taunted Percival time and time again. They were both sunburned, too, from ignoring his mum’s constant reminders to put on sunscreen. The color would fade to a healthy tan, though Chris’s always got darker. In the photo, Percival had his arm slung around Chris’s shoulders, a solid eight inches taller than his friend, and his bare chest was already solidly muscled from his part-time job stocking shelves and unloading deliveries at the off-license at the edge of the estate.

“Chris…” When Arthur said his name, Percival tore his gaze away to find Arthur regarding him with a frown. “That was the name of one of the other victims in the fire.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. He had to duck his head to hide the sudden pricking behind his eyes. Fuck. After all this time, it shouldn’t be so hard. “That was him.”

A warm weight came down on the back of Percival’s neck. Arthur’s strong fingers began to work at the knots they found there. “You’re tired.”

“It won’t make a difference if we wait to do this. It doesn’t get easier. I just…I want it over with.” He took a long, deep breath that didn’t really do much except ensure he was still breathing. “I met Chris when I was twelve. He was fifteen.”

“He probably thought you were older.”

“No. We met because my mum started dating his brother.” The tremor in his hand was visible when he turned two more pages in the album and tapped the edge of another photo. “That’s them. Mum and Shep.”

That hadn’t been his first name, but everybody who knew Stephen Shepherd called him by the nickname or risked his irritated anger. He didn’t need to tell Arthur the name, either. Though he’d likely been bruised and unsmiling in all the police pictures, Shep’s distinguishing features were the same. The shaved head. The tattoo down the side of his neck. 

“I idolized Chris.” Focusing on him took the edge off remembering, but only a little. “He was funny, he could talk to anybody, and he wasn’t afraid of anything. Well. Almost anything. He could talk himself out of any kind of trouble, and the kind he couldn’t? He used me as his scapegoat.”

Arthur snorted. “Of course, he did. You were younger. An easy target.”

“No, it was more than that. I let him. I thought it was worth it to be his friend.” For all those adventures Chris had dragged him out on, letting him hang out with the older boys without being mocked, treating him like an equal, it was worth it. “When he quit school, he came to live with us, so I saw him even more often. I didn’t mind. I thought it was perfect. So between him and school and my part-time job, I wasn’t home very much.”

Home had become a bed and the occasional meal. Tor whined that he wasn’t there to play with him anymore, but Percival had blown him off, arguing that he needed to make his own friends. He’d been blind to more, too, like the occasional bruises his mum had sported, or the way things sometimes went missing. He accepted her excuses – _I bumped into the door, I dropped and broke it when I was washing up_ – because his head had been too full of Chris.

“She encouraged it, actually,” he said when Arthur asked. “I had always been too shy to make many friends before Chris came along. But Chris liked the fact that I was bigger than he was, that I was bigger than most of the boys. We started messing around right after I turned fourteen.”

The day after. Mum had made a coffee sponge and given him new trainers, but Chris had saved his gift for the next day. He’d dragged Percival to a pub where nobody knew them and managed to get them served. On the way home, he’d stumbled into Percival and “accidentally” grabbed his cock. That was all it took. They’d jerked each other in an alley and then giggled like girls all the way home. Not the most romantic way to spend his first real sexual encounter, but the memory never tarnished, even after everything that happened between them. It had felt honest, because Chris later admitted he’d been scared of trying anything sober in case Percival shot him down.

“From the way Gwaine tells it, that’s how most guys start out,” Arthur said. “Did things get weird for you after that?”

“No. They got better.” Much better. “Chris became everything to me. He picked me up after school, we hung out together. He covered for me at work when I needed to study, and I covered for him at home when he wanted to go out. I thought…” God, how young he’d been. How naïve. The world had seemed so clear to him in those days, when he was sure he could tell a truth from a lie, the real from the fake. “He was my best friend. The sex was just a fantastic perk of it all.”

Arthur never stopped his massage, his fingers continuing to coax the tension out of his muscles, little by little. He seemed to be sitting closer now, too, though Percival didn’t remember him scooting over. More than anything, he yearned to twist around and scoop Arthur hard against his body, to bury his face in the bend of Arthur’s neck and use the smell and taste of him to banish the memories, but these ghosts needed to be shared, not ignored, and he had to keep Arthur as far away from the grief of it as he possibly could.

“So what happened?” Arthur prompted softly.

His silence had stretched a little too long. Percival inhaled once to brave against what was to come. “Shep.”

There was no disguising the bitterness in his voice. He could usually find some manner of good in almost anyone, an inkling of humanity to keep from hating them, but when it came to Shep, he might as well have been looking for little green men on the moon. 

And Arthur, of course, picked up on it.

“He found out?”

He nodded. “In the worst way possible. Chris…always bottomed. Always. Which I didn’t have a problem with, actually. He kept pushing and pushing me to be rougher, and I’d oblige. Because I loved him. Because it felt good. Because…so many reasons. But when Shep caught us in the act, he didn’t even know Chris was gay. He flipped.”

They’d thought they had the house to themselves. Mum and Shep had gone down to the pub, which usually meant hours alone. Tor was at a friend’s, and Chris was horny. That was all it took. Percival had him bent over the end of the bed, using one of his school uniform ties as a leash around Chris’s neck as he pounded the hell out of his ass. Neither one of them had heard the front door open. Neither one of them had heard Shep until it was too late.

“He snapped Chris’s wrist pulling him away from me,” Percival said. “Called me every name in the book. Saying he always knew I was a fucking fag and that he’d get me done for rape.”

“What?” Arthur grabbed Percival’s shoulder and forced him to look at him. “That’s insane. You were just a kid.”

“A very big kid,” he clarified. “Choking his goddamn boyfriend for shits and kicks.” Funny how all the education he’d had in the interim went out the window as soon as he recalled his Council childhood.

“Chris corrected him, though, right?”

Percival shook his head.

“You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I was. Shep was the one thing that terrified Chris. Especially since he tossed Chris around pretty good before Mum showed up.”

She’d come in, wondering what was taking Shep so long. They’d only come back because they’d run out of money to pay for drinks. He was supposed to be dipping into the rent money to finish funding their revelries when he overheard the boys in the bedroom. 

“Except when she walked in and tried pulling him off Chris, he backhanded her.” Percival flinched as he recalled how loud the slap had been. He could even hear her teeth clicking together from the force of Shep’s blow.

“Percival—”

“The worst of it was, she wasn’t surprised by it.” He couldn’t stop. Now that he’d started, the story needed to be told. “She screamed for me to get out, to run while I could.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Shame flooded hot through his veins. “And I did. I was so scared about what I’d done, I couldn’t think of anything but saving my own skin.”

“I can guess the rest,” Arthur said gently.

“Can you?” His head ached, heavy and burdensome. “So you’d guess that Chris denied most of what we’d done for the past year and a half? That he told Shep he’d been afraid of me, and how was he supposed to tell me no when I was twice his size?” Somehow, he found the strength to meet Arthur’s gaze again, knowing he’d see the pity there he never wanted to witness again. “How about the part where Shep blackmailed Mum with telling everyone I was queer if she didn’t do something about me? The only reason he didn’t beat her up then was because I was sitting right there. But that was the night I decided he couldn’t keep terrorizing us like that. That Mum deserved better, whether she thought so or not.”

He’d broken Chris’s wrist, so Percival broke his arm. He’d loosened one of Mum’s teeth, so Percival broke his nose. Letting loose all the rage that had built up inside of him at how Shep had hurt the people he loved most had been almost as good as the sex. He could still feel the rush that came when he realized Shep was unconscious from how badly Percival had beaten up.

He could also feel the horror that had come on top of it at what he’d done. He’d thrown up in the bushes outside Shep’s house until his throat was raw and he was spitting blood.

“If you ask me, it sounds like he deserved it,” Arthur said. “So why couldn’t you just tell me that before?”

“Because you wanted help about your father’s ultimatum.”

“So?”

Percival swallowed. He tasted bile, but he didn’t know if that was because of the acid in his stomach or a ghost memory demanding it be recognized. “The reason the assault charges got dismissed was because Mum begged Shep to let it go. I told her I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t hurt him again, not if he was going to keep on hurting her and Chris. What if it was Tor next? He was just a kid. He couldn’t defend himself.”

_“Shep’s not the one who got arrested.”_

_“I’d never hurt Tor. You know that.”_

_“Shep loves us.”_

_“He’s got a funny way of showing it.”_

_“Don’t talk about him like that, Percival Chance. I won’t allow it in my home.”_

_“Why not? You allow just about everything else in your home.”_

“She slapped me, then.” He rubbed his cheek, dragging his knuckles along the stubble. “I deserved it for mouthing off, but I couldn’t believe she’d actually done it.”

_“Mum, he broke Chris’s wrist. His own brother.”_

_“That was an accident. He feels awful about it.”_

_“I don’t trust him. You shouldn’t, either.”_

_“That’s not your decision to make.”_

_“Fine. But you know what is? Whether I have to sit back and watch. Maybe I should just move out.”_

_“You can’t. You’re only fifteen.”_

_“I will. Unless you stop seeing the son of a bitch.”_

_“What did I just tell you?”_

_“I don’t care. If he’s sticking around, I’m out of here.”_

“She picked him.” All these years later, and he still couldn’t quite believe it. He’d been so sure she’d see the truth about Shep. The evidence was right there, staring her in the face. “So I left. Again. I said to hell with all of them, because Chris didn’t want anything to do with me by then, and Mum certainly wasn’t listening to me. And less than a month later, they were all gone.”

“Christ,” Arthur muttered. “I’m so sorry, Percival.”

“Don’t be. It was my fault.”

“I refuse to believe you burned your mum’s house down.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that was Shep. I think there was probably a fight, or he was drunk, or something like that. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m still the one to blame. I left her alone with him. I left Tor. I gave her an ultimatum and then was too proud to look back when she called me on it.”

“You were hurt.”

“I was selfish.”

“You were fifteen.”

“Facts are facts, Arthur.” He tried to smile and failed miserably. He was just exhausted, both physically and mentally. He could curl into a ball and sleep until the next decade. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?”


	28. Chapter 28

Beneath Arthur’s palm, Percival vibrated like the finest of violin strings drawing out the last breath of a note. To the naked eye, however, he remained still, his voice low and carefully modulated, his bleak gaze unblinking. Arthur couldn’t imagine the kind of control it took to hold it together like he was. He was too busy trying to hold it together himself.

_Wasn’t that what you wanted?_

_No. Not like this._

His tongue swiped over his dry lips as he struggled to find words that wouldn’t make anything worse. He’d been right in believing there was more to the police reports and newspaper articles, but he hadn’t come anywhere close to guessing the truth about the other two victims in the fire. What they’d been to Percival. What they obviously still were.

_Sorry_ wasn’t good enough. Neither was _I wish I could take it all away_ or _You’re better than that, whether you realize it or not_. Arthur shuttled through response after response, but nothing said what he needed Percival to actually hear.

So he tightened his grip and gently tugged. Percival was stiff, resisting at the first pull, but Arthur maintained the pressure, reaching for his hip to help close the gap. Coming together was clumsy, more awkward than any embrace they’d ever shared, but as he wrapped his arms around Percival’s broad back, he brushed a kiss against the salty patch of skin below his ear.

Percival hesitated, and a tremor rippled down his back. His breath was ragged against Arthur’s neck, like he was gulping for air. In the next moment, he crushed Arthur against him, burying his face in the crook of Arthur’s shoulder.

The album fell forgotten to the floor.

“Stay here tonight,” he thought he heard Percival say. It was hard to tell over the thundering of his heart. But he definitely heard the next, the “please” that moved through him with its formation on Percival’s lips.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he replied. “I never was.”

Percival’s arms actually got tighter, tight enough for his ribs to ache a little from the pressure but not nearly tight enough for him to tell Percival to let go. They’d never reach that state as far as Arthur was concerned. Plus, the longer he held on, the more the vibrations beneath Percival’s skin smoothed out. He needed no other encouragement.

How long they sat like that, he had no idea. It might have been seconds, minutes, days. Time was irrelevant in the face of everything that had been spilled out for Arthur to see. When Percival began to relax, however, Arthur kissed his neck again, letting his mouth linger to savor the taste of him.

“Thank you for telling me,” he murmured, because Percival needed to hear – needed to _believe_ – he knew what a gift it was.

“You’re only the second person who knows it all.” His voice was muffled. He seemed in no hurry to straighten. “It’s funny, but Merlin asked me weeks ago whether or not I’d said anything to you about it yet. Like he knew I would eventually.”

More and more, he was glad of Merlin in Percival’s life. Finding a friend like that in the aftermath of what had happened had probably pulled Percival back into the real world. He might have retreated completely, rather than reverting to his shyest tendencies, and chosen a life that protected him from further heartache instead of the proactive one he now led.

“Merlin’s a smart guy.”

Percival’s shoulders hitched. He couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or something else.

The bedroom door beckoned. “We should call it a night.”

And just like that, Percival’s arms fell away. When he sat back, the tension that had left him like stone had mostly evaporated, though his gaze remained solemn, his mouth downturned.

“What’re you going to do?” he asked.

“About what? I thought we were going to bed.”

“Your father.”

“The same thing I’d already planned on before I got here. Though maybe with some colorful swearing.”

Percival didn’t smile at his small joke. “I don’t want you to lose what family you have. I can’t be responsible for that, too.”

Arthur sighed. “All right. First of all, you’re not responsible for what happened to your mum and brother.” He held up a hand to cut Percival off from interrupting. “You’re not going to convince me you are, so you might as well save your breath. I might not have known you then, but I sure as hell know you now, and from what I can tell, you did everything you could.”

“I could’ve gone back.”

“So he could slap another assault charge on you? You’re smarter than that. And you were hurt. Guess what, Percival? You had a right to that. The people you loved best let you down.”

“I let them down, too.”

Arthur ignored that. “Second, you haven’t done a thing to affect my relationship with my father except give him more opportunities to show his true colors. He’s the one who’s behaved abominably. He should be happy I’ve finally found somebody I can see a future with instead of—”

“What did you say?”

He stopped, confused a moment about the interruption. “What? He behaved abominably? But you know that.”

Percival shook his head. “The other part.”

“Oh. Our future, you mean.” He relaxed, smiling even though Percival looked a little shell-shocked. “I can see it.”

“You can’t.”

“Well, maybe not literally, but I can imagine one, sure.”

“With me.”

“Of course, with you.”

“Even after everything I just told you.”

“None of that changes who you are, no matter how much you might think it does.”

Percival’s frown wasn’t going anywhere, but it was one of perplexity rather than annoyance and anger. Another night and Arthur would’ve found it adorable, maybe reached to try and smooth away the lines between his brows. Now, he let it linger as Percival tried to digest what he was saying. 

“I have the worst record when it comes to relationships,” he said. “You’re my first real one since Chris.”

“At least I’ve got you recognizing this is real between us.”

“I’ll fuck up. I know it.”

“So will I. That’s what people do, Perc. We make mistakes. Smart people learn from them.”

Percival finally glanced away, snorting under his breath. “Most people take one look at me and assume I’m stupid anyway.”

He was retreating again, and Arthur panicked. He caught Percival’s wrist and trapped it within the circle of his fingers, ready to keep Percival in place in case the flight became physical instead of just emotional.

“Then it’s a good thing you and I know differently.”

When Percival’s gaze dropped to the join of his hand, Arthur held his breath, waiting for whatever hurdle he’d have to leap next. 

“Not having anyone since Chris was mostly my choice,” came the soft confession. “It’s easier that way.”

Arthur matched his tone. “Lonely, too.”

“I tried keeping you out. You got in, anyway.”

“I fight for what I want.”

His shoulders hunched. “I don’t.”

“That’s not true. Look at how hard you’ve worked to build your business. And Merlin. You’ve fought harder for him than most friends would even consider doing.”

“I owe him.”

“You owe me, too.” That drew Percival’s attention back up, just as Arthur had hoped. “You can’t show me how brilliant we’d be together, how fucking fantastic it could be for us, and then take it away. We deserve better than that. Both of us.”

Something flashed behind Percival’s eyes – a wince, a bite of remorse maybe – but then it was gone, hardening into the strength that Arthur loved. “I won’t do that to you.”

“Us. You won’t do it to _us_.”

A brief nod. He glanced past Arthur, and when Arthur turned to find out what had caught his eye, he saw the painting he’d brought sitting on the coffee table. It felt so insignificant now, in light of Percival’s story. A trinket when Percival should have more. But Percival softened at the sight of it, almost smiling as he effortlessly pulled free of Arthur’s grip to reach and pick it up.

“I love this picture,” he mused. “I feel like I should pay you back for it, but…” He cast a bashful glance sideways. Looks like that could make Arthur forget his own name. “I have a feeling you won’t let me.”

“It’s a gift.”

“I haven’t thanked you properly for it.”

“Tell me you see our future, too, and we’ll call it even.”

“I do, but…you’re not afraid of your father firing you?”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s not going to.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Leave that to me.” Rising, he jerked his head toward the bedroom. “Come on. Let’s go lie in bed and figure out where we can hang that picture so you can see it best.”

Percival stood and followed his lead, unbothered by Arthur’s familiarity with his space. He took that as another positive sign. He hadn’t been kicked out, he hadn’t been told no. He’d only been presented with potential pitfalls, which any couple had to face. Now that he was aware of Percival’s history, he could better understand the triggers that might upset the balance they both craved in their lives, an equilibrium they managed to find only when they were together. He was prepared to do whatever it took to keep Percival firmly entrenched at his side, even more than before.

Because his respect for this man had exploded beyond measure. Percival had weathered loss, withstood betrayal, and become stronger for it. He might’ve learned to mistrust love, but he wasn’t afraid of re-evaluating that lesson. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be willing to imagine a future for the two of them. Therein rested hope, and with hope, they could accomplish anything.

Inside the bedroom, Percival leaned the painting against the wall atop the dresser, taking a moment to angle it precisely for the best view from the bed. Arthur hid his smile as he toed off his trainers, but as soon as Percival turned away from the picture, he pulled him down and stretched out along Percival’s side.

“Do you have to get up in the morning?”

Percival regarded the painting for several seconds, then turned his head to meet Arthur’s eyes. “Unfortunately. Merlin and I have a meeting mid-morning with Frank Roig.”

“The footballer?” At Percival’s nod, he whistled under his breath. “Lucky you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “It’s business. He’s not going to want to listen to me grill him about what happened in that last game against Arsenal.”

“That’s a shame. I’d love to know what he was thinking when he—”

Percival surprised him with a sudden kiss. They touched nowhere else, but the simple contact of lips to lips took over everything Arthur knew. He didn’t need the heat of body to body to feel him over every inch of his skin. Percival branded him with it, sometimes with only a look.

“Thank you,” Percival murmured against his mouth. In the faint light spilling from the hallway, his eyes glowed, but Arthur decided to believe it wasn’t a trick of the light but something that ran deeper.

“For what?”

“Believing in me.”

“Oh, Perc…” He cupped the back of Percival’s head and held him close, brow to brow, nose to nose. Their breath mingled, and his mouth watered for another taste, but he took the time to simply inhale, taking him in on a much more fundamental, necessary level. “That’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”


	29. Chapter 29

Percival couldn’t give up worrying about what Uther was going to do, just because Arthur said to. That would be like giving up breathing. But he could keep it to healthy levels in the background when he was as busy as this.

Like the three solid days of meetings with all the new client prospects. Frank Roig was only the first. Percival and Merlin went to lunches, drinks, even the dog track, as they cultivated all the interest Elena had stirred up on their behalf. Not everything panned out. That was the way of the world, after all. Enough stuck to keep them busy for the next several weeks, however, so much so that the best Percival could do about seeing Arthur were phone calls sneaked in before bed or in transit.

He did ask Merlin what his opinion was on whether or not they needed to be proactive in case news of the assault charges came to light.

Merlin shook his head. “Anybody looking for security wants someone who’s willing to do what it takes to protect people. They’ll see that for what it really is.”

So Percival had dropped it. If both Merlin and Arthur were convinced it was manageable, he had to trust them. He’d trusted them enough with the whole story, after all.

Friday at four, his phone rang. Arthur’s number was on the display.

“How would you like to spend the evening surrounded by rich blowhards looking for charitable investments that help convince the public they’re not as bad as all that?”

Percival grimaced. “Gee, you make it sound so tempting.”

“It should be, actually. I think it’d be perfect for us to start drumming up some interest in those projects I sent over to you.”

At mention of the projects, he glanced at his laptop. He’d been so busy with the new clients, he hadn’t had the opportunity yet to read over the files Arthur had emailed. “I’m not sure tonight’s the best night for that,” he hedged.

“Tonight’s _perfect_ for that. There’s a fundraiser party at one of Father’s hotels. A roaring twenties theme, hundreds of people, tons of good will. Come with me and we can start some networking to get things off the ground for real.”

As much as he wanted to spend some real time with Arthur, the prospect of doing so at an event associated with Uther wasn’t appealing. “Is your father going to be there?”

“Don’t let that be the reason you say no.”

“Have you talked to him yet?”

“About us? No, I haven’t. I haven’t even seen him since Tuesday.”

“So maybe this isn’t the best timing for us to be seen in public together.”

Arthur growled in frustration. “Look, do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Would I knowingly put you into a situation I didn’t think you could handle?”

He didn’t like how that was worded. However, there was only one truthful response he could make. “No.”

“So as long as you don’t have a conflict, put on your best suit and be ready for me to pick up at seven.”

Without a good reason to say no, Percival stood on the curb outside his flat at seven o’clock, shaking his head as Arthur climbed out of the back seat of a silver Bentley Continental.

“Do I want to know why we’re arriving in a limo?”

“Because half of London will be arriving in limos.” Desire blazed in Arthur’s eyes as he swept his gaze up and down Percival’s tailored form. “You look utterly perfect.”

Arthur looked pretty edible himself. Percival’s gaze dropped to the way his jacket hung over his hips, hinting at the swell of his ass in the well-fitting trousers. His cock began to swell, especially when he saw Arthur checking him out in the same manner. 

“We’re coming back here as soon as we can get away,” Percival declared.

“Yes.” Arthur’s eyes twinkled as he held the door wider for Percival to get in first. “We have some unfinished business to take care of.”

His lack of clarification didn’t prevent the images from filling Percival’s head as he slid onto the back seat. With the firm press of Arthur’s thigh against his for the duration of the ride, the pictures remained firmly planted, in Dolby sound and Technicolor, with a naked Arthur spread-eagled and spent on his bed as its star. He watched the limo enter the queue for drop-off and caught Arthur’s knee as he tensed to get out.

“What am I here tonight as?” He meant the question sincerely, though he recognized he sounded a little nervous as well.

Arthur smiled. “You’re my partner.” As if any other option was unheard of. “Privately and professionally.”

He nodded, his heart in his throat. It was easy to let Arthur grab his hand as he pushed open the door, though not so simple to stand beside him at the edge of the walk as paparazzi flashed cameras from every direction. Arthur wasn’t as visible a celebrity as some of the other faces Percival recognized walking toward the hotel, but his face would still be widely circulated as a guest. How would they refer to Percival?

They took their first step. Arthur didn’t let go of Percival’s hand.

_Partner._ He couldn’t be making it any clearer for those not already in the know.

Though he couldn’t bring himself to smile like Arthur did, Percival did his best not to look like he didn’t belong there, meeting people’s eyes, nodding in acknowledgment when he was included in a greeting. They had made it almost to the front door when a voice boomed behind him.

“Chance! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to this tonight?”

He turned. Frank Roig was pulling his petite wife Helen through the throng, avoiding all other onlookers, in a beeline for Percival. In spite of his nerves, Percival grinned at the sight of him. They’d got along very well during both of their meetings this week.

“At least I’ll have somebody interesting to talk to now,” Frank said as he pumped Percival’s hand.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” He stepped aside and gestured to Arthur. “I don’t believe you two have met. Arthur, this is Frank Roig. Frank, Arthur Pendragon.”

As the two men shook and exchanged pleasantries, Percival watched Frank’s reactions carefully. He’d seen them holding hands, so he had to know their relationship was personal. Yet, he had no overt animosity about him, no new distance at discovering Percival was gay. He didn’t hide his sexuality from clients, but he didn’t play it up, either. It wasn’t an issue on how well he could do his job. Not everyone felt that way, however, and knowing Frank was one of those he could count on to see past the labels meant more to him than he realized he’d wanted.

Frank and his wife stayed with them as they meandered their way inside. Others approached, some surprisingly notable faces included, and more introductions made. It reminded him of Elena’s party, frankly, though for some odd reason, several of the people they said hello to came forward because of Percival rather than Arthur, clients he’d worked with before, a young couple who remembered him from a job he’d had a year earlier.

“You remember that?” he’d asked them in surprise.

The wife had laughed. “I’d be more worried if I didn’t. You’re rather distinguishable, don’t you think?”

Arthur elbowed him playfully. “That’s what I’ve been telling him all along, but do you think he listens to me?”

They laughed, but it was all in good-natured fun rather than Percival’s expense. He could join in without feeling like the odd man out.

_Because I’m not._

The realization shadowed him the deeper they got into the party. A jazz band blasted music on the dance floor, and in tribute to the theme, most of the women were dressed as flappers. Some men had succumbed to period-appropriate suits, but the fancy dress seemed more for the females than otherwise. By the time they found a table to sit at, Percival was on his second drink of the night, pressed into his hand by a rather insistent waiter, and Frank and his wife were still glued to their sides.

“I don’t suppose Percival talked to you about one of our projects.” Arthur addressed Frank, though one of his hands had slipped out of view to come to rest on Percival’s knee. “I think you’d be perfect for it.”

Frank laughed. “All Percival wants to discuss is security and football.”

“I didn’t know you were in security, too, Arthur,” Helen said.

“I’m not. Percival is consulting with me on a few development deals I have in the works.”

He really wished Arthur hadn’t mentioned it. When did he imagine Percival had time to read his proposals with the week they’d had?

Shooting Arthur a small frown, he corrected, “It’s all still in the early stages. Arthur’s just excitable.”

“And Percival plays it too safe sometimes,” Arthur said without missing a beat. “But seriously, Frank, we’re looking at helping in the renovations for a new sports club in Croydon. Involvement from a celebrity like you would get it some great exposure.”

“You’d have to talk to my manager about something like that.” Frank was being polite, trying to let Arthur off the hook. Percival nudged Arthur’s knee, hoping he’d take the hint and drop it.

Except he didn’t.

“Oh, I plan on it. But I’m hoping it’ll just be a formality by that point. Think of it. A player like you, showing underprivileged kids there’s a way out. Being a figure of hope instead of just awe because of how you play. There’s an entire community there, screaming for some positive attention. And you could be a part of that. Giving kids a sanctuary when they need it most.”

As he launched into his description of the sports center, Percival relaxed into his chair. Arthur had this under control. He wouldn’t push Frank away for the sake of a deal. He was too good at reading people. But even as he painted the verbal picture of what he envisioned the project to be, he drew Percival into the conversation with pointed questions about the area’s growth, about its political climate, about the trends in education and jobs. Subjects he wasn’t even aware Arthur had known the depth of his knowledge on.

The thing of it was…it felt natural. Like they’d done this a dozen, a hundred, a thousand times before. Was this what his life was becoming? This was the second Friday in a row where he accompanied Arthur to a public event, but he wasn’t nearly as awkward as he’d felt the first time. Perhaps it had to do with the one-on-one nature of their discussion with an increasingly interested Frank. Or maybe it was connected to his growing autonomy, the fact that he’d been recognized tonight for himself instead of as an extension of Arthur or Merlin or anybody else.

It was probably both of those things, but there was more to it than that, a trust swelling inside that he wasn’t as out of place as he always assumed, a belief that had been bolstered by the quiet, determined attention of the man at his side. When he wasn’t speaking directly to Frank, Percival watched Arthur, suddenly unafraid of allowing his feelings for him show. He might look foolish in his besotted state, but at that moment, he didn’t care who saw what.

He loved Arthur Pendragon. For reasons greater than he could comprehend.

And the future Arthur painted was going to be grand indeed.

“I think that’s fucking brilliant,” Frank said when Arthur was done. He punched Percival in the shoulder. “Who knew you were so smart, mate?”

With a smile, Percival threw his arm over the back of Arthur’s chair, letting his fingers carelessly rub the taut muscle. “You won’t be sorry, Frank.”

“I can tell that. Funny, though.”

“What?”

“I never saw myself getting into bed with a Pendragon before.” He waggled a finger at Arthur. “I’ve heard some scary things about you and your dad.”

“All of it’s true,” Arthur deadpanned. He couldn’t hold it, though. He cracked into a grin and shook his head. “You don’t have to worry. Percival keeps me on the straight and narrow.”

Frank screwed up his face. “Well, that’s no bloody fun, is it, Chance?”

And just like that, any tension that might have returned at the Pendragon association dissipated. Frank held no rancor toward either of them. A positive step for a strong step forward. Together.

Topics lapsed into the more mundane. When Helen and Arthur began discussing some restaurant Percival had never heard of, he straightened in his seat and tapped the table once to discreetly get their attention.

“I’m going to get us some fresh drinks.” He glanced at Arthur. “Do you want another?”

Arthur nodded, but Frank pushed his chair back and stood.

“I’ll come with you. Need to stretch my legs a bit.”

He got Helen’s order and followed Percival to the bar. They were chatting and waiting for their drinks when someone tapped lightly on Percival’s shoulder.

“A word, Mr. Chance.”

Uther’s voice sent a chill down Percival’s spine, but he managed to turn without flinching or stiffening. “Mr. Pendragon. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Which was a lie, but Frank didn’t need to know that.

His eyes were cold. “Obviously.”

“Pendragon? As in Arthur’s dad?” Frank stepped forward and thrust his hand. “A pleasure, sir.”

“And you are?”

Percival made brief introductions, noting how several men nearby turned at the sound of Frank’s name.

Uther noticed, too. His demeanor warmed. “I hate to interrupt, Mr. Roig, but I was hoping I could have a moment in private with Percival here.”

First names now. The old man was a professional at playing his audience.

“Oh, sure, sure. You probably have business to talk about, right? Brilliant stuff, that sports center. A lot of people are going to be very impressed when it’s done. I’ll wager we can even get more than a few of the managers tossing their lot in, too. Good PR all around.”

The only sign of Uther’s uncertainty about the topic was a tightening at the corner of his eyes. Otherwise, his smile was indulgent, the nod of his head understanding. “And we can always use more of that, can’t we?”

Frank laughed. “Always.”

Uther stepped aside, allowing Percival to take the lead away from the bar. When Percival glanced toward their table, Arthur was still deep in conversation with Helen, giving no signs he’d seen Uther. That would change once Frank got back to the table. Percival had to hope neither Pendragon would make a scene.

Within a few feet, Uther edged forward, but when it became obvious he was steering him toward the bathroom, Percival stopped.

“Is leaving the room really necessary?” he said. “We’re civilized men.”

Uther stopped, cocked a brow. “Are we now?”

“I am.” Uther’s actions remained to be seen.

“Your…history says differently.”

“My history says a lot of things. As I’m sure yours does.”

His gaze became flint. “How dare you compare yourself to everything I’ve accomplished.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. You’ve brokered some of the biggest, most influential development projects in the city’s history. But we’ve all made choices, Mr. Pendragon. And we all have to live with those choices.”

“I sleep with a clear conscience. Do you?”

“No,” he replied honestly. He didn’t want to anger Uther, but he wouldn’t be shamed into the corner. Arthur relied upon him to be the man he needed. “But that just means I can see the mistakes I made rather than pretend they don’t exist at all.”

Uther stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I warned Arthur what would happen if he insisted on continuing this association. You seem like an intelligent man, Mr. Chance. Do you really wish to be responsible for ruining his career like this?”

Arthur’s ability to read people and find their strengths and weaknesses had clearly been inherited. It wouldn’t have been that long ago that Percival would have agreed with his assessment and backed off, because Uther was right. He didn’t wish to be responsible.

“If I thought for a moment Arthur needed the Pendragon machine behind him to succeed, I’d let you have your way. But the fact of the matter is, he doesn’t. He will take the hit, and then he’ll bounce back, probably stronger than ever. Frankly, if you choose to excise your only son from your life just because you don’t approve of his lifestyle, that’s your responsibility, not mine.”

“His so-called lifestyle will destroy everything I’ve worked for.”

“Really? How many business contacts have you lost this past week? How much money?”

His direct questions flustered Uther. “None, of course.”

“And yet, I met quite a few of your colleagues and business associates last week. Arthur didn’t bother hiding the fact that we were dating. By your logic, shouldn’t they have cut all ties with you? I’m sorry you find our relationship so distasteful, I really am. But I love Arthur, and I will stand by him for as long as he lets me. Regardless of your threats, or your fears, or your influence.” He was tired of defending himself, and really, had little more to say to the man. Taking a step back, he tried a gracious smile and found it wasn’t quite as hard to affect as he’d thought. He didn’t believe Uther was going to let this go, but he did think – with his whole heart – that Arthur would be just fine professionally if he did. “The world is changing around you, Mr. Pendragon. If you don’t wish to lose everything in your life that matters, I suggest trying to find a way to change with it.”

He turned on his heel, his heart oddly lighter, his spirit freer, ready to return to Arthur.

To find Arthur standing there waiting for him already, his blue eyes blazing, his smile brilliant.

“You love me, do you?”

Percival’s face went hot. The world tunneled down to the lone man before him. “You heard that?”

“Oh, don’t think you can go taking it back now. I’ve got witnesses.”

“No,” he heard himself say. Was that really him? When did he get so bold? “I’m not.”

“Good.” Closing the gap, Arthur caught his hand and glanced past him to Uther. “Are you about done with my partner, Father? Because the night’s still young and I am most definitely not done.”

Uther’s lips were a hard, thin line. “This isn’t over, Arthur.”

“Actually, it is.” His smile didn’t waver. “Good night, Father.”

Together, they walked away, back to their table.

Heads high.

Shoulders straight.

Hand in hand.


	30. Chapter 30

Arthur had high hopes for the night, but nothing could have prepared him for how amazing it turned out. After witnessing the latter half of Percival’s confrontation with Uther, he floated through the rest of the evening, more cavalier in his search for support for the sports center, more openly affectionate when Percival was at his side. He scored more interested backers, but more importantly, he could revel in the fact that Percival loved him. He hadn’t denied it when he’d been confronted. He didn’t shy away from Arthur’s claims to him as the night progressed. More than once, Arthur was convinced he saw it in his eyes, or in the curve of his smile, when Percival looked at him.

Percival loved him. Nothing else mattered.

He didn’t even care that his plans for Uther had been derailed by his father’s approach to Percival. His intention was for Uther to witness firsthand what an asset Percival could be to future investments, and what a bad idea it would be to make his past public knowledge. He’d specifically called several of Percival’s associates to invite them personally to the fundraiser, knowing they would both serve to relax Percival in a setting he might not be comfortable with and provide opportunities to chat up the sports center. While they’d been effective – after the confrontation, Arthur had watched Uther specifically to see if he’d noticed and he had – they hadn’t been as necessary as Arthur had thought.

Percival had been marvelous. Both with the guests and his father. Even if Uther proved Arthur wrong and fired him, he didn’t think Percival would take the blow as strongly as he might have a few days earlier. They would weather the changes, and they would do so together. As Arthur had hoped for all along.

When they fell into the limo at the end of the night, he felt like he was drunk, though he’d switched to water nearly two hours before. It wasn’t the lingering alcohol that left him lightheaded. Percival’s possessive stance as they waited for the car did most of that. They stood at the edge, Arthur in front, while Percival had his arm diagonally across Arthur’s upper body to hold him close. His arousal teased Arthur through their clothes, and the occasional dip of Percival’s head to skim kisses along his hairline and ear had his head spinning. The sounds of the city blanketed the world around them, and the lights glittered against the darkness like the sun on sand. Their own little world.

At least until they were safely ensconced in the back seat of the Bentley.

The car pulled away as Arthur instructed the driver to return to Percival’s flat. Arthur glanced out the window out of habit, then startled in surprise when Percival twisted to press him into the corner of the seat.

He lifted his head in time to meet Percival’s hungry lips. His weight bore Arthur down, hot, heavy, the line of his straining cock thick along Arthur’s thigh. Arthur grappled for whatever hold he could find and settled for fisting handfuls of Percival’s coat. The promise of hard muscles grazed across his knuckles, hints of what was his to explore once they got back to the flat.

Tonight would be more, too. He wasn’t leaving Percival’s bed until he’d had his cock inside in every way possible. Whatever protest Percival might make, he was ready for. He felt like he’d been waiting an eternity already.

Percival managed to worm a hand behind Arthur’s head, fingers knotted hard in his hair to force his neck back. He bit at Arthur’s lower lip, then soothed it over with his tongue, repeating the process on new random pieces of flesh until his skin shivered in anticipation of the next spot to be attacked.

“Wish I could fuck you right here,” Percival murmured.

His agreement was choked off in a moan when Percival slid a hand beneath his ass and squeezed. He bucked upward, or tried to anyway, but the solidity pinning him down only served to drive his body harder into Percival’s. His zipper scraped along his aching shaft, eliciting another shiver that cascaded into more with Percival’s incessant kisses and nibbles. The elastic on his briefs cut across the tip of his cock. The hem of his shirt would be soaked with pre-come before they ever made it home.

Percival gave no quarter. Though Arthur squirmed, every time he got a better hold or a stronger angle, Percival shifted his own to keep him in place. It was reminiscent of the night he’d jacked them off together against the door, but something about it wasn’t quite the same. It lacked the desperation that had fueled Percival that night. In its place was a deeper determination, a sense of possession that encompassed every rational thought Arthur could muster.

A claiming. He’d called Percival partner tonight and meant it, but in all honesty, he’d never expected Percival to say the same. Overhearing the declaration of his feelings had changed that, but perhaps he’d underestimated Percival all along. From the very beginning, he’d craved knowing what it meant to be owned by this man. Its form then had been sexual, because that was obvious, easy. Time – and Percival – had augmented that to more, to the sensation of being consumed by his presence, reshaped into something better by the power of a word, the flashfire of a smile.

This was it. Or this was as close to it as they could get fully dressed in the back of a limo. Because Percival took what he wanted from Arthur and gave back in fresh form without a word of request falling from Arthur’s lips. He simply knew.

He had always known.

His mouth felt bruised when the car coasted to a stop. Percival peeled away, leaving him disheveled and askew while looking like a quick jerk of his jacket would erase any evidence of his attack. Arthur tried to sit up, but his arms and thighs were jelly. The best he could do was propping half against the seat.

“How am I supposed to walk now?” he complained good-naturedly.

Percival grinned. “I could always carry you upstairs.”

“Your neighbors would have a fit.”

“I’ll be very, very quiet.”

“You can’t. You owe me, remember?”

The muted lights near the floor masked Percival’s eyes, but they couldn’t hide the reach of his hand as he swiped his thumb over Arthur’s bottom lip. “More than you even know,” he said softly.

When he pushed his thumb inside, Arthur sucked at it, greedy for its hardness and salt and promise. Percival’s nostrils flared, and his throat bobbed from swallowing. He turned his hand, allowing Arthur to continue as his fingertips stroked the edge of Arthur’s jaw.

Gentle now. In sharp contrast to how fervently he’d kissed moments ago. The strength he housed was a formidable weapon, but it was Percival’s control that truly undid Arthur and made him hunger to give Percival everything he had to offer.

The driver’s door opened and shut. Percival was slow to pull his thumb free, his fingertips branding Arthur’s face as he dragged them away, but as much as he wanted to chase it down, Arthur let him go.

Not the place. Upstairs. In bed. 

Under Percival.

With Percival.

He took his time climbing out and gave the driver an exorbitant tip once he joined Percival on the curb. Somehow, he got his legs to work all the way to the lift, but there, Percival dropped the polite façade he’d put on for the driver and crowded Arthur into the corner.

“Cocktease,” he growled, then captured Arthur’s mouth for a kiss he felt to the back of his throat. Percival shoved a hand down the front of Arthur’s trousers, skidding across the slick trail of pre-come before wrapping almost painfully around his length. “You drive me mad.”

The same could be said for Percival, but he wasn’t giving Arthur any breath to speak. He stole every puff, demanding Arthur to open, sweeping in to seize whatever Arthur had to offer. When Arthur fought for some semblance of balance, Percival only pushed him back, countering his resistance until submission was the last remaining option.

They came to a stop, and the doors opened. Arthur braced his palms against Percival’s chest and shoved as best he could.

“I wouldn’t be a tease if you’d get off long enough for us to do this right.” With a smirk, he ducked below Percival’s arm and darted off the lift.

Percival took chase, catching up to him several yards away from the door. He scooped his arm around Arthur’s waist, drawing laughter from them both, and they stumbled the last few feet, half tripping over the other in their haste to get inside.

Their playful back and forth continued over the threshold, through the living room, into the darkened bedroom. Somewhere along the way, they shed their jackets and shoes, and Percival’s shirt hung out and open, revealing a slice of the powerful chest beneath it. Arthur started to slide his hands over the smooth skin, to push the garment off the rest of the way, but Percival caught his wrists and pulled them both to a halt.

“I know what you did for me tonight.” Though he was still smiling, his gaze had gone solemn.

Arthur grinned. “You haven’t given me the chance to do much of anything for you yet.”

“I’m talking about Frank. The others. I know that was you.”

Fuck, he hadn’t wanted Percival to figure that out. “I didn’t mean—”

“It doesn’t matter. I just…” His bravado stuttered, his lashes ducking for a moment. “It makes me love you more, and I didn’t think that was possible. That’s all. I just thought I should say it to you for real instead of letting it fly on what you overheard.”

His heart clenched. Every time he thought Percival couldn’t get to him more, he turned around and surprised him. “It was still real. Maybe more because you had the balls to say it to my father’s face.”

“I should’ve said it to you first.”

“The important thing is that you did.” Since Percival was still holding his hands, Arthur moved the only way he could. He leaned in and kissed the hollow his throat, licking the way up to his neck. “It’s not one-sided. I love you, too.”

Percival’s grip tightened. The muscles beneath Arthur’s lips flexed, moved, and then the faintest brush of breath tickled his cheek as Percival bent his head. Kisses like raindrops overwhelmed his senses, and he swayed closer, straining for more of them, expecting Percival to say something. Anything.

He didn’t. Perhaps the time for words was past.

Percival found a spot on Arthur’s jaw that wasn’t already tingling and bit at it. Arthur cried out, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the room from spinning out of control.

No more speaking was just fine by him.

* * *

Percival was used to emotion choking away his voice. Of all the parts of his body that he worked to keep strong, that was the one most fallible, bested easily by such intangibles as his fear and frustration, his shame and shyness. Losing it to powerful, positive feelings was new but not surprising. If anything, he shocked himself by being able to describe the depth of his love to Arthur at all.

He settled for what he knew, what he understood, to convey what he needed. Releasing Arthur’s wrists, he worked at his clothing instead, never lifting his mouth away from the golden skin he exposed. Buttons came undone beneath his fingers, but he refrained from doing more than loosening the knot on the tie. He wrapped the silk around his hand and used it as an anchor to keep Arthur in place as the other hand pushed the shirt free of the broad shoulders.

Arthur tried to help, but Percival batted him away. _Mine_ , he wanted to growl, except that would’ve meant stopping his oral assault and he wasn’t prepared for that, especially with a flat nipple now bare and ready for him to nibble on. Arthur shivered when his teeth caught the hard tip. Not once did he protest Percival was being too rough.

Though he understood Arthur wasn’t into those kind of games, there was a difference between using force to cause pain and using it to heighten reactions. Arthur was a strong man in his own right, and if not as big as Percival, more than capable of holding his own. Pushing boundaries didn’t have to mean hurting him. He knew that now.

He was grateful for it. Because now he could relax his guard, trust in Arthur to watch his back so he could give them both what they wanted.

With the shirt gone, he coiled his arm around Arthur’s waist, hauling him the few inches off the ground to head to the bed. Arthur’s gasp heaved his chest beneath Percival’s lips, and hands shot to Percival’s arms to dig in and hold on. He was only a few inches off the floor, just enough to move him unimpeded. Percival glanced up through his lashes to find Arthur staring at him, fresh fire in his eyes.

His body relaxed. He smiled. 

Percival burned.

“No toys tonight,” he warned as they hit the edge of the mattress.

Arthur shook his head. “We’re long past games.”

He set him down, more gently than he’d hoisted him. Arthur fell back onto his elbows, his tie flopping to the side, lips slightly parted as Percival made quick work of his trousers and pants. When his legs were free, the temptation to forget his own clothing almost stopped Percival, but he quickly stripped, uncaring of the garments he left lying on the floor.

“Someone’s eager,” Arthur said with a cocked brow.

“Can you blame me?”

He shook his head. “I’ve wanted your cock in me from the night we met.”

Percival touched a single fingertip to Arthur’s balls, stroking the velvety skin behind them, then dipped into the cleft of his ass. He smiled when gooseflesh erupted along Arthur’s exposed skin. “Slut.”

Arthur didn’t blink. “Yes.”

Though they were both dry, he circled Arthur’s hole, feeling it clench and twitch just from that minute contact. “This is mine.”

“Yes.”

“Whenever I want.”

“Always.”

“I’m going to fuck you raw some day.”

Arthur’s breath caught, his eyes going black. Lifting his legs, he braced his heels against the edge of the bed to open his ass wider. “I hope so.”

Promises of a long future, however indirect. Promises of fidelity, of trust. Percival swallowed against the tightness of his throat and pulled his hand away, ignoring the swift frown that came to Arthur’s face. “Can you get to the nightstand without moving too much?”

Arthur twisted his head, testing his reach. “Sure, I—” His hips jerked when Percival surprised him with a long lick down his crack. His eyes whipped back around, fixing on Percival as he reversed the path to return to his waiting hole. “I can’t think when you do that.”

“I’m not asking you to think. I’m asking you not to move too much to get the lube and condoms while I eat your ass.”

To make sure he didn’t move even more, Percival gripped the firm buttocks and dug his thumbs in to pull them apart. Arthur whimpered, his cock bouncing a little against his flat stomach from the jolt that must have gone through him.

Percival only smiled as he bent his head again.

Feasting on Arthur would likely always be one of his greatest pleasures. Something about the fullness of the cheeks heating Percival’s face, or how responsive his hole was with just the slightest of contacts, or how it clutched at his tongue when he sank inside, deep enough for his teeth to scrape over the heavenly flesh. He could do it all night and never get around to actually fucking him, and still be satisfied when the sun rose in the morning.

Any night except tonight, however. Because he’d waited a long time to bury his cock in this hard, tight body, and he wasn’t going to wait any longer.

He shifted to fingers when the urge to stay there on his knees became almost too great to resist. Arthur had tossed down the lube, and once his hand was slick, Percival screwed two fingers into his channel, twisting to stretch as much as he could, as quickly as he could. He wouldn’t hurt Arthur. He wouldn’t. The dildos had done their job in helping him get used to the intrusion, though, and Arthur yielded to the entry within moments.

To help, Percival cradled his cock in his palm, running his thumb up and down the vein along the shaft. He loved the weight of it, the heft, the almost elegant glimpse of the glistening tip as it peeked out through the foreskin. Watching the muscles contract in Arthur’s abdomen was as hypnotic as watching those at his hole, proof positive of the desires he’d held in check for so very long.

“Mine,” he whispered.

He hadn’t realized Arthur had heard him until the other man murmured, “Yes.”

He really should have added a third finger, maybe even a fourth, to get Arthur ready. But with that admission, his patience snapped. Straightening, he tore off a condom from the strip and hastily rolled it on, smearing more lube than he’d normally use along his entire length. He dribbled more over Arthur’s opening, then tossed it aside.

Arthur scooted back to give him room to climb onto the bed between his legs. Hands reached for him, found his arms, tugged hard enough to knock Percival off-balance and onto Arthur’s torso. The air whooshed out of both of them, sucked away further by the fusion of mouth to mouth.

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t breathe. He was where he was supposed to be.

“Want to feel you,” Arthur said. “All of you.”

Percival nodded. Propping up on one hand, he grasped the base of his cock and lined the tip up with Arthur’s pucker, letting it rest there as the muscles closed, then opened, in anticipation of pulling him in. Arthur grabbed onto Percival’s ass and tugged, but Percival held firm, unwilling to thrust as hard as they both clearly wanted.

“Next time.” He gulped for breath. “Next time, I’m going to tear into your hole ‘til you scream.”

Arthur shuddered. Nodded. Buried his face in Percival’s neck as his labored lungs struggled to work.

Slowly, Percival pressed forward. He expected the resistance and immediately backed off, keeping his grip light around the root of his cock. Arthur tried to rise to meet him, but Percival nudged him down, rocking forward again to test the barrier. He did this once, twice, more, each time weakening the muscle until the tip finally slipped inside.

Arthur immediately clamped down. Nails dug into Percival’s back. Percival stopped.

The pressure was excruciating, and he wasn’t even properly inside yet. He held still as Arthur rode out the initial pain. He almost pulled out again. Though he knew the pain would subside, he hated the thought of even causing this. Selfish, greedy…more adjectives describing himself bombarded his shaky control, but he remained firm, reminding himself that this was what they both wanted, he was an equal partner here not a curiosity or a tool to be used.

“More,” Arthur finally said. Beads of sweat had popped on his forehead, slicking both of their skin.

Percival complied. His buttocks clenched as he pushed forward again.

More inches slid inside. Not all, not even close, but enough to hint at the pressure, the heat to come. His mouth was dry, and everything felt too tight, but he listened to Arthur’s body, the silent requests for him to pause, the verbal demands for him to continue. He didn’t know how he’d ever be able to stop once he was fully seated, not until his balls were drained and Arthur was sated limp. From the way Arthur kept urging him, however, he didn’t think he’d have to.

Little by little, the muscles yielded. He had to withdraw more than once to give Arthur the room to breathe, but as soon as he could, he pressed forward again, taking more with each stroke. The time eventually came where their bodies rubbed together, the backs of Arthur’s thighs against his hips, heat bleeding into each of them so it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Percival grabbed onto a hip to keep them steady, knowing there might be bruises when he let him go but needing the balance too desperately to release him. 

It was perfect. Better than he’d fantasized about, better than he’d ever had. Arthur molded around his cock like his ass had been made for Percival. Even better, he clenched to hold him in, and when the strain became too much, relaxed for only a moment before clenching again.

His head fell back onto the pillow, their eyes meeting for the first time since Percival had started. The brightness in them looked like love, and his heart twisted at the sight of it.

“Tell me when I can move,” Percival said.

“Just give me a minute to get used to this.”

He wanted to ask if it was what Arthur had expected, what he’d wanted, but bit back the insecurity. Arthur would tell him, and besides, his cock was still hard and heavy against his stomach. Not even the ache of penetration had been enough to take the edge off.

Arthur’s prompt came with a roll of his hips, a squeeze of his already tight channel. Percival gasped and pulled back, needing that friction more than anything else. He took care to stop after a couple inches, but his thrust forward was harsher than he’d hoped for.

Not so harsh that Arthur didn’t smile, though. “You’re not going to cop out of fucking me for real, are you?” he taunted.

His words sparked a feral hunger deep in Percival’s gut. Grip hardening, his next withdrawal was farther, his next drive fiercer. His balls slapped against Arthur’s skin, a welcome sting, but he didn’t wait for Arthur to adjust this time. He set an even, exhilarating tempo that forced Arthur to take everything he had, whether he was ready for it or not.

Arthur never closed his eyes. He came close a couple times, lashes flickering when Percival ploughed especially hard, or his fingernails scratched over Arthur’s increasingly sweaty skin, but his gaze remained steady, his smile sure. Only his rapid breathing gave him away, the occasional suck of air past his teeth prefacing the moan that would always follow.

Percival quickened in irregular increments, shuttling faster and faster in and out of his hot ass. Perspiration speckled both of them, an allure he couldn’t resist. He licked and sucked at each damp patch of skin he could reach, hard at Arthur’s Adam’s apple, harder along the top of the nearest pec. Through it all, Arthur’s cock slid between their stomachs, dripping even more copiously when Percival managed to scrape over his prostate.

“Touch me,” Arthur begged.

Words might have failed Percival, but this he could do. He fisted the shaft and stroked at a faster rhythm than their hips. Arthur gasped, and his spine bowed away from the bed. In the next moment, his cock jerked. Come splattered onto his ribs and chest, and his ass clamped down. The walls trembled, creating the same vibrations along Percival’s cock, but it was as much the look of bliss on his face that made Percival lose it as it was the force of his orgasm.

He couldn’t move. His body locked, joints frozen, the world black. All he felt was the pulsing around and through his cock, reverberating into his veins to sear at lightning speed to every nerve ending he possessed. Vaguely, he felt hands smoothing up and down his back, warm lips mapping his neck, and he turned into the caress, sagging as his strength abandoned him.

Arthur held him in a tight band of arms and legs, their torsos glued together by come. Murmurs of how amazing it had been, how much he loved Percival, fell from his tongue. Percival didn’t dare open his eyes and risk the entire night being a dream.

Eventually, Arthur chuckled. “I thought I was the one who passed out after sex.” He slapped Percival’s ass. “Get off. You’re bloody heavy.”

His muscles felt like water, but he rolled off with a heavy exhalation. While he did feel like he could sleep now for a week, the whole world was sharper, each touch from Arthur as he pressed into Percival’s side more keen. 

“I’ll last longer next time.” Arthur rested a hand on Percival’s stomach, his cheek against his shoulder. “I was so close from just getting fucked, I didn’t stand a chance once you touched me.”

“That was your idea, remember.”

“I know. And it was a good one. But next time will be better.”

With a satisfied smile, Percival wrapped his arm around Arthur’s back and pulled him closer. “Next time is five minutes from now, right?”

Arthur snorted. “Like you’ll even be awake in five minutes.”

“I could be.”

“Maybe I want to fuck you this time.”

“I’m bigger than you. I’ll win.”

“I’m faster.”

“Bigger will win.”

“Ever hear of a lad called David?”

Apparently, this was what happiness felt like.

And it was _good_.


	31. Chapter 31

“He’s going to murder all of us in our sleep for doing this to him, you know.”

“He won’t. He’ll love it.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his boyfriend? You’re supposed to know better.”

“Well, if all goes wrong, it wasn’t my idea anyway.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“And since when—”

“Sshhh!!! He just walked in. Somebody let the DJ know.”

“Don’t worry, it’s all taken care of.”

The quintet hovered at the edge of the dance floor. Some kept glancing back and forth between the door and the stage, while others were relaxed, confident of the response about to come. 

Or at least, one of them was.

The first measures of The Beatles’ “Happy Birthday” blasted from the speakers. Dancers everywhere stopped what they were doing, looking around in confusion to see what was going on. Just as it had been planned, a spotlight swung from the DJ’s stand, across the tops of heads to zero in on Gwaine standing near the bar.

He looked startled at first, but it took only a beat for him to break out in a grin. With a shake of his head, he scanned the crowd until he found the five of them waiting for his reaction just a few yards away. The moment the lyrics started, and Arthur, Percival, Merlin, Elena, and her new boyfriend Leon began shouting the words along with the recording, he waggled a finger at them in warning.

Percival wasn’t worried. The smile Gwaine wore completely destroyed the effect.

He preened in the spotlight for the duration of the song, but as soon as it was done, broke free to stalk toward them. Congratulatory applause accompanied him, and Merlin leapt forward to intercept his path.

“I didn’t tell you what today was for a reason,” Gwaine warned him. He curled his arm around Merlin’s waist and hauled him close. “Don’t think for a second I’ll be the one taking the birthday spanks later.”

Merlin laughed. “If that’s the worst you can come up with, I’ll take it.”

Percival followed Arthur as he approached, hanging back to let him be first. “Be careful what you wish for, Merlin,” Arthur said. He clapped Gwaine on the shoulder. “This one will always surprise you.”

Gwaine looked pointedly past him to Percival. “Been polishing your kettle there, I see.”

“Happy birthday,” Percival said, holding out his hand.

Gwaine grinned as he shook it. “Thanks, mate.”

Merlin stayed glued to Gwaine’s side, much as he’d been for the past three months. Both men still claimed it was completely casual, but one look at either of them when they were in each other’s company was all it took for even a stranger to know otherwise. “There’s cake for later, and drinks are on Arthur tonight.”

“Aren’t drinks on Arthur every night?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Only because you skip out before the bill comes, Gwaine.”

More laughter, more jokes, and the party moved away from the bar to the table they’d reserved in the corner. Though he kept his watching discreet, Percival noted how Elena rarely let go of Leon’s hand, and how Merlin kept leaning in to whisper in Gwaine’s ear, displays of happiness that seemed thankfully natural. Only one thing made him feel better than seeing his friends so content.

Arthur smiled at him as they took the two chairs against the wall.

That was it.

His arm went across the back of Arthur’s seat. No matter how often they saw each other, that need to publicly claim Arthur as his never waned. It shocked him sometimes to know how badly he wanted the world to see them together, for its occupants to acknowledge them as a couple. He knew it was because sometimes he couldn’t really believe it himself, that somehow he’d managed to find this amazing man to love and convince him to love him in return. In the three months since Uther’s ultimatum, life had only got better.

The sports center was turning into a major production, with Frank and others spearheading the publicity. Uther had been forced to back down from firing Arthur, but Arthur had gradually been taking more independent deals anyway. He kept trying to bring Percival deeper into the fold, but while Percival loved the financial aspect of working with the various consultants, he loved the security business too much to quit. They’d managed to find a happy balance that satisfied both of them, though Arthur occasionally good-naturedly complained that Percival was holding back on him.

But he wasn’t. They both took extra measures to ensure seeing each other as often as possible. Work often got in the way, but it made the hours they could spend together all that much richer. They’d even managed another weekend away to the house in France, and it was still hard to come back to the real world when it was over.

He loved Arthur more with each passing day. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for him.

Including suggesting and planning the surprise party for Gwaine’s birthday.

“I want to dance,” Elena announced. She hopped up from her chair and tugged at Leon. “Come on.”

He grimaced. “Really? Can’t we wait for a slow song?”

“No, we can’t. This is a party, and we need to celebrate it in full style.”

Still grumbling, he rose but he went with her without any further argument. Gwaine stood as well.

“I cannot believe she beat me out there.” With a grin, he cocked his head at Merlin. “Are we going to let her get away with showing us up?”

Arthur laughed as Merlin practically tripped over his own feet to join Gwaine. When they were left alone, he said, “I was wrong. I’ll admit it. This was a great idea.”

Percival smiled. “Don’t tell Gwaine it was mine. Merlin should get to reap the rewards.”

“You deserve something for it, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Arthur chuckled. He rested a warm hand on Percival’s knee. “I like it better when you think of something.”

He could think of a lot of things, but most of them entailed bailing on the party earlier than would be polite. He couldn’t hear her, but he could see how much Elena was laughing, and Merlin never smiled this brilliantly except in Gwaine’s company. They were having fun, and he wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to remember this night years from now and smile.

Abruptly, he stood and held his hand out to Arthur. “Dance with me.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“But you hate dancing.”

“Not with you, I don’t.” 

“It’s a fast song.”

“Now you sound like Leon.” Reaching down, he caught Arthur’s hand and tangled their fingers together. “Dance with me,” he repeated, his voice softer, his gaze intent. “It’s a celebration, and I can’t think of anything better to celebrate than us.”

He would’ve pulled Arthur to his feet, but Arthur did that on his own, using his hold to step even closer. The smile he tilted up at Percival was brilliant enough to light the whole room. “Neither can I.”


End file.
